The Witch of Calawah River
by Angels of Twilight
Summary: In the late 1600s, hundreds of men and women were hanged, burned, and drowned because the people of Salem thought they were witches. This is the story of one half-breed who survived her hanging, and how she found the will to trust in society again. How do you live knowing everyone either wants to use you or wants you dead? A/U.
1. Prologue

_The Witch of Calawah River_: In the mid 1600s, hundreds of men and women were hanged, burned, and drowned because the people of Salem thought they were witches. This is the story of one half-breed who survived her hanging, and how she found the will to trust in society again.

_*Borderline M-Rated Content Marked by Asterisks throughout Story*_

_Prologue_

_There exists a legend of a young woman whose family was destroyed by the Lyken. She was denied death and the bite of the Lyken morphed this woman into something the supernatural world has never seen before and will never see again. Like other Nephilim, she is charged with the task of destroying supernatural threats to humankind, but her encounter has left her with so much more. She has joined the ranks of the supernatural. She is immortal and has the ability to use runes with only the power of her mind. She is stronger, faster than normal Nephilim. But she can still die. A fatal wound or serious illness could bring her back to her family, but age is not her enemy. No, age is an ally._

_She will have three runes permanently set in her skin after her attack: shield, invisibility, and divination. The changes made to her body resulting from her hybrid state will not allow for these runes to fade upon activation, and any others used will be triggered in her mind. She need only draw the rune in her mind's eye to activate the power. The runes of the Nephilim are known to her, both those known and those forgotten. She, in essence, is the living embodiment of Nephilim history. The Nephilim world will know nothing of her existence until the time comes where their future depends on her._

_The young woman will be cursed to grow close to others, only to watch them die before her as she remains the same. Those she tries to help will suspect her of evils she is innocent of, but unable to explain. She will withdraw in on herself in fear of the pain of loss and rejection. One will come, little more than a century after her transformation, who will intrigue her. His future will be shown to her unlike any of those she had seen previously. He will need her help, and she will need his._

_She will be the savior of Nephilim, supernatural, and human alike. The one and only of her kind. Angel and demon. Light and dark. Good and evil._

_The daughter of Abaddon, Angel of Destruction, will save us all, but first, she must find those who will save her._


	2. Chapter 1

_*Rated T-18 material marked with*. Nothing too graphic.*_

_Chapter 1: 1510_

_Place: England_

"_Deus huius saeculi commoda mihi vires rid of virus Inferno, ut servo vestri liberi a malis cecidit super eum et expurgare haec anima corruptionem . . ."_

"God, lend me the strength to rid this world of the poison of Hell, to save your children from the evils of the Fallen, and purge this soul of the corruption upon it," my mother chanted, her hand over the forehead of her current client. Her other hand was drawing a small symbol over the client's heart that flashed dimly for a moment as Renee finished. The woman had been having strengthening chest pains, and had sought the only healer in the village, who happened to be my mother. The physicians were becoming less popular as my mother's methods proved more successful, but not one of her patients could correctly guess why. If they could, we would surely be executed on the spot.

We were known by our own kind as Nephilim, children of the angels. The stories go that, before the angels fell from Heaven, many of them began lusting after human women. The children born of this lust had special abilities they could access through symbols known as runes, usually drawn onto the skin or another object with a stele, a stick-like piece of wood activated by a sacred blessing only used for that specific purpose. Each ability or enhancement, like enhanced speed or invisibility, had its own rune that each Nephilim had to learn in order to fulfill our purpose. This purpose was to destroy any and all demons, no matter the species, that threatened either us or the human race. When my father, Charles, first told me this when he taught me my first rune, I found our purpose ironic. He asked me why, of course, and I told him it was because we were meant to protect the human race, but we existed only because of the abuses dealt to the humans by our angel fathers. He looked at me as though he had never realized what I had, and proceeded to speed up my training from that day forward. I accepted the change of pace as a compliment, seeing as though my father was not one to make a compliment obvious. As far as he was concerned, if you could not divulge his meaning from his words or actions, you were not worthy of them.

This special purpose was made difficult by the fact that we were in no way invincible. We had enhanced speed, agility, and senses, but could be killed as easily as any human. When we grew old, we died. If we fell seriously injured, we could die. Because of this, we were trained from the moment we could walk to be as swift, silent, and graceful as possible. When we were able to steadily walk, at about the age of three, our mentors and parents began training us to fight, using the swiftness and stealth we had previously acquired to enhance our abilities. They would make games out of the training, suddenly throwing something soft at us or hiding around corners to teach us to evade a surprise attack or capture. It was fun until we discovered the reason why this happened. We were home-schooled to avoid questions and exposure. Anyone and everyone could possibly be a demon, and the quicker we realized that and took the threat seriously, the better off we were, but it made children as young as five summers seem emotionally older than they were, something that disturbed the humans when we interacted with them.

I was ten summers old when my mother and I encountered my first demon. We were gathering medicinal herbs and berries from the forest to keep up appearances. She used them to prevent clients from asking questions about her methods. As far as they knew, she used the herbs and berries she burned to invoke the Lord before marking them with a sign of the Lord to tell Him the person needed healing. They were more than willing to accept this without hesitation, and my mother and father gave no other explanation without cause.

It was a ghoul, a being that fed off the flesh of humans, dead or alive. It was stalking a traveler when we saw it, but he had no idea. He could not see it; that ability was left only to Nephilim or other supernatural beings. My mother and I altered our course to intercept the demon, and my mother drew her seraph blade, calling on one of the higher angels to borrow his energy in slaying the beast. She gave me one, as well, but only as a precaution. We slipped into the "other world" by stepping behind a tree, the world where we could not be seen by humans as we fought. No one had a name for it; I do not believe anyone tried to name it. She quickly slew the ghoul, evading a swipe of its claw-like hand and drawing her blade across its neck. As it dissipated back to its own realm, I watched in complete fascination. Being told of the events following the killing of a demon and watching them could never compare. That had been five summers ago.

"Farewell, Meredith. Please feel free to come back if the pain returns," mother said, holding the front door for her. She nodded in agreement, a smile on her aging face as she left. My mother sighed in exhaustion, lightly sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Isabella, would you start supper for me? Your father is due back any time now, and I have not had the time," she asked, fingering the wooden spoon on the table. I nodded in response and turned to the pantry, grabbing the jars of vegetables and salted pork. As I turned around, I ducked, the very slight whistling sound warning me of the incoming spoon and its approximate distance. It crashed into the wall behind me, and I picked it up, setting it in the sink for washing. I stopped responding to those tests many summers ago, and the praise for success stopped as well. It was expected, so not rewarded.

I went into a trance as I cooked our meal, not paying attention to anything I was doing and still able to tell everything was being done correctly. Cut this, boil that, drain those . . . it was all second nature. I had been cooking as long as I had been training. Being able to perform more than one task at once had become very useful, especially when my mother found another spoon while I was in a trance. I caught the second as I leaned back, moving my head out of the way, and used its momentum to forcefully return the utensil to her. Again, she did not respond in any way. Instead, she began speaking on a topic I long-expected to arise and dreaded.

"Isabella, when will you marry?" mother asked, and I shook my head. She and my father had been looking for suitors for some time, and they were not opposed to a large age difference. The most recent, a thirty-summers-old man named George, seemed to be a winner in their eyes. He was moderately wealthy and a Nephilim, which was a must, and had fought many demons in his lifetime. He called on me often, but I always found some excuse to avoid him, mostly because he was a drunk.

"We have other things to worry about right now, Mother. My marriage is not one of them, especially when I know nothing about the man I am expected to marry," I responded as I continued cooking, conveniently forgetting the little I did know. She huffed.

"That is no fault but your own, Isabella, and you know it. If you would just give the gentleman a moment instead of spinning tales about training, you would know him enough to accept his proposal. He is a fine man and a perfectly acceptable husband. He is desperately lonely after the death of his wife and child, and has already asked your father for his blessing," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You call him acceptable only because he is Nephilim, and nothing more. You do not fool me, mother. You and father are only doing this because you would rather I end up with a drunken fool who cannot take care of himself than a human. And he seems much less lonely when he comes teetering to our door, drowning in spirits. The bottles keep him company enough," I mumbled, and she was up before I was able to react. I never expected the blow, nor did I have any warning from her previous position, but my cheek stung all the same as I raised my hand to cover the offended skin. My mother was that fast and silent that I could hear a spoon flying through the air at me, but not her while body moving as it did the same.

"You will not speak about your future husband in such a manner, Isabella Marie Swan!" Mother screeched, her finger almost touching my nose as she shook it at me. Her words took a moment to register, but Father burst through the door before I could respond.

"What is going on here?" he bellowed, his face quickly turning red with anger. "What are you saying about Mr. Smith that has upset your mother so much?"

"Father, the man is a drunk, and you know it. How am I supposed to get to know a man when, any time he is near me, I am getting to know the spirits in his gut instead?" I asked, trying not to whine. My father glared at me.

"This does not matter, Isabella, because you are to marry Mr. Smith tomorrow at noon whether you like it or not. He asked for my permission to wed you, and I gave it. Your mother will prepare you for the ceremony tomorrow, and you will not argue. The matter is settled," he said sternly. I watched his face as he said this, but he only looked decided, not smug. It was then that I knew the marriage would happen no matter what I said or did; my future was decided. Tears instantly welled up in my eyes as he walked by, washing up in the sink and taking his place at the head of the table. I made his plate in a daze, not paying attention to anything but his words replaying over and over in my head. He gave his permission . . . I would be married by noon tomorrow.

The rest of the night passed without words between my parents and me. I went to my room and closed the door, and that was the last thing I remembered until I awoke the next morning. I bathed and ate in the same automatic movements as I had the night before, and the next thing I knew, my mother had me standing in front of a floor-length mirror in a simple, pure white gown. She was pinning up my hair and talking about how happy I would be once I was married, but I barely listened to her. Instead, I looked at the person looking back at me from the mirror.

Her long brown hair hung in waves down her back, and some of the hair from the sides had been brought up and pinned. Her lips were thin and pressed tightly together, as though she were trying to hold in a sob, and her brown eyes were dull and lifeless. She looked anything but joyous on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, but that was the dreamer in her talking. She had wanted to wait and marry for love, not convenience, but she hadn't expected her father to force her into a marriage. She knew she was getting older every day and, in turn, less likely to be married, but she still held on to that small hope of finding "the one." That search was no longer needed . . .

"Isabella, it is time," my mother announced happily, shoving a bouquet of daisies into my limp hands and pushing me to the door.

As she steered me into the adjacent room, I realized we were in the small town church. No one was sitting in the pews, giving the event a haunted, doomed feeling. The Nephilim priest's words echoed off the stone walls, attacking my mind as I tried to get a grip on what was happening to me. I couldn't tell what he was saying, but I couldn't get myself to pay attention. George slipped a ring on my finger, and I did the same to him. He was suddenly diving in towards me, and I turned my head to the side as he tried to kiss me. Anger flashed over his face when he pulled away, but it was over.

He grabbed my hand roughly, and dragged us outside and to his home . . . my home . . . no, his home. This place could never be my home. He pulled me around, showing me where each of the rooms were and telling me how well I was going to be cared for and that everything he owned was now mine, as well. I didn't respond once. I didn't feel right, like I betrayed someone with this marriage. I couldn't picture his face, but I knew it was Him. "The one." Somehow, I felt like I betrayed our future love by marrying this fool. He was currently sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of spirits in each hand, trying to decide which he would use to celebrate. I slowly walked over and sat opposite him, as far away as I could get and still be in the same room. I didn't want to be, but I felt like a trespasser, like it wouldn't be right for me to walk off into another room without him.

"We need to conssssssummate our marrrrriage tonight, my lovellllly wife," George slurred some time later. Taking a look at the bottles, I realized one was completely empty while the other only had half of its contents left. My new husband was drunk beyond all reason, and the look in his eyes told me he was going to take what he wanted without argument. He proved me right.

"Go to our bedrooooom, my dear Issssabella, and wait for meee," he said, giving me a sickening smile as I stood to obey his wishes.

I entered . . . _our_ room and stripped down to my undergarments before slipping into bed and laying on my back. I heard the sound of the bottles clanging together as he disposed of them, letting me know he had finished the second in only moments. My breathing and heart rate quickened as I heard the creaking floor warning me of his approach, and I flinched as the door banged open. He laughed when he saw my reaction and carelessly removed his own garments.

I fell back into my daze as his weight shifted the mattress next to me. *I didn't want to remember the next few hours as soon as I felt him grab me roughly by the shoulders and slam his face into mine, splitting my lip. Every touch, pinch, rub, and push he made against my body ran together as a full body-and-soul pain took hold of me. He hurt me consistently throughout the minutes he forced us together, but only laughed at my silent tears. I knew he had asked me a question to which my tears and silence were the only response, and this seemed to anger him. He was much more forceful, grabbing me hard enough to leave bruises as soon as he released me.*

I blacked out and woke up to a slap the next morning and George roaring at me to clean myself up and make him breakfast. My whole body throbbed as I stood, a small cry leaving my lips before I could stop it. He only chuckled as he left the room.

This was only the beginning of what became the most tragic three years of my existence. George did not change his ways with me, being rough and violent with me whenever it pleased him. I became pregnant only weeks after our wedding, but even that did not stop him; he just never hit my abdomen. My little Mary was born nine months later, and it was the first time I had seen my mother or father since the wedding. Renee assisted me in the birthing of my baby girl, and she saw the results of what he was doing. She burst into tears when she noticed my cracked lips scraggly hair, and bruised body. Every part of my, both visible and not, was a varying shade of fresh purple and black all the way to a healing yellow or green.

She told Charlie when they returned home, but he could do nothing; he was no longer my guardian. Renee was not happy about that, so she convinced Charlie to ask George to allow me time with my parents so they could get to know Mary; George refused, but instead allowed them to take Mary for the day every now and then. He used that time to beat me into unconsciousness, focusing on my stomach. Needless to say, I never became pregnant again after Mary.

The end of those three years left me alone in a field, listening to the last breaths of my parents, George, and Mary leave their lungs as I struggled to breathe. Lycans had attacked our town and killed everyone, but they left me alive. My shoulder was ripped open from a bite, and my whole body was turning cold. The three runes I constantly kept on my body began to burn as I writhed and screamed on the ground, but no one was there to hear me. The entire town was dead around me.

My body finally stilled one week later, and I awoke in a strange bed with an older woman standing over me. She gave me a small smile, offering me a glass of water and helping me sit up.

"Good afternoon, dear," she said, her voice crackling with age. "How are you feeling?" I thought about her question, turning over the words in my mind as I focused on my body. I didn't feel any different than I had before, except for the rhythmic thumping in my shoulder. I thought it should hurt more than it did, but I was wrong.

"Fine," I coughed, my throat dry. I took the glass she had offered and emptied it, feeling only slightly refreshed.

"Well, that is good news. I did not know what to expect with a Nephilim-Lycan hybrid," she sighed sounding relieved.

"What?" I asked, not quite grasping the conversation just yet. She laughed softly.

"You are now half Lycan, half-Nephilim, young one. Your body reacted to the bite of the beast and merged with it. You have been shifting back and forth for the past few days, but you cannot completely change into a Lycan. You also still have the runes that were on you when you were bitten. I assume you have a barrier rune because this is the first time I have been able to approach you," she explained, and I just looked at the ceiling. The woman took my hand in pity.

"You are unique, young one. One of a kind. I have never once heard of anyone surviving a Lycan attack like you have. But you need to be careful; you will be coveted by some, envied by many, and loved by few. You need to find those few, my dear. They will be the key to your survival in this world. The trouble will be surviving until they are alive themselves." I looked into the old woman's eyes, trying to find out how she knew these things, and gasped when I saw them. Age had stolen her sight, but she appeared just as happy as someone with it.

"What does this mean?" I whispered.

"It means, my dear, that, when the time comes, you need to travel to the New World. You are immortal now. This happened to you for a reason, and the reason is across the ocean, or will be. You just have to wait." She stood to leave and I grabbed her hand.

"Who are you?" I asked as I slipped back into unconsciousness.

"Just an old Nephilim, dear. One who is going to help you learn to survive until the time comes for you to move on . . ."


	3. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2: 1585_

_Place: Roanoke Colony, Modern-day Virginia_

The _Red Lyon_ groaned with the impact of the sea's waves. It slowly rose and fell with the swells, but suddenly jerked to a halt as the hull struck land. I could hear the captain yelling to his crew, preparing the deck for departure. I was sitting below deck in the cargo hold, the place the old woman, Dolores, had told me I would need to go in order to not be found before the ship set sail.

Being an unmarried woman with the appearance of someone only eighteen summers old, I would not have been allowed to board without an escort. I shouldn't have even been able to make it to the port without a male with me, but I was able to use a rune to keep myself unnoticed. Not invisible, but anyone who tried to focus on me would have their attention discreetly averted elsewhere without their knowledge. It was one of the first runes Dolores had taught me, and led to the discovery that I had gained a complete knowledge of each and every rune, both known to and forgotten by the Nephilim. As soon as I had a need for a specific ability or protection, the rune came to the forefront of my mind without further processing. I was also able to activate a rune without drawing it. If I drew it in my mind and focused enough, the rune's power would become mine as though I had drawn and activated it.

She had died only five years after teaching me these things, but I had grown close to her. She did all of the things my mother had, and had known exactly how to comfort me when the Lycans would attack again and again, every time I closed my eyes. I felt the flashes of pain as the beast's jaws crunched down on my body, my arm erupting into flames as I watched my family being ripped apart only feet away from me. She held me and spoke softly, trying to bring me back from the day that left me cursed to wander the world alone, and I had come to search out her voice when the memories clasped me in their iron grasp.

We spent the days exploring my new powers and abilities as she blindly wandered around her house, never once coming into contact with anything without a purpose behind the action. I had three runes permanently drawn into my skin, one for divination, one for a shield, and one for invisibility. The last was different from the veil rune because, with an invisibility rune, the chances of someone being able to discover my presence went from slim to none at all, and they could not even touch me, like they could with the veil rune. The first gave me visions of events I had to make sure occurred, and the second allowed me to place a shield around both my body and my mind.

Dolores constantly saw events in my future, but she refused to tell me outright. She told me I would have difficulties, but that everything would be worth it in the end. That there were people I had to meet and bring together in order to fulfill my purpose and finally find the happiness I deserved. I very much doubted that last vision, but let her have her moment. So long as anyone I came in contact with was fated to die as I was forced to sit by and watch, I would never find happiness. The day Dolores passed only strengthened my resolve to have as brief of relations as I could with the rest of the world. The all-consuming pain I felt until the day I stepped on that ship would not allow me anything but. The only reason it faded was because she had told me about my voyage to the New World, and I felt as though she were with me in some way because of that. I would never go through that kind of pain again, if I could help it.

The stomping of men's boots startled me, bringing my attention back to my surroundings. They were disembarking, giving me my cue to get out of the hull before I was discovered, so I made my way to the stairs and quietly added myself to the back of the crowd. Captain Richard Grenville was standing at the top of the gangplank and nodded his head towards me as I walked past. I returned the gesture with a small smile and ducked my head as he face slowly turned to one of confusion. No women were supposed to have been on that ship.

I activated the veil rune, whose appearance resembled that of an eye turned away, and immediately felt his eyes leave me. At first, I believed it to be an invisibility rune, but in truth, it only caused the attention of anyone focused on me to be drawn to something else.

As soon as my feet touched land, I released my skirts and looked at the surrounding area. We had docked in a clearing with nothing but a few poorly made shacks that looked as though they were about to fall over. Sir Raleigh was inspecting what appeared to be his home, gesturing wildly in protest to the workers who had ceased their efforts to sooth him.

Lifting the brim of my hat slightly, I took in the forest bordering our little area. The trees were magnificent in their height and birth, with wide branches reaching towards each other as thought they were about to embrace. The leaves were deep green, a good sign for fertile soil. The bright May sun was not yet hot, but left a pleasantly warm blanket over my skin. The brush looked healthy and thick, which would prove to be both a blessing and a curse.

I inhaled sharply as an older gentleman brushed against my arm, not even realizing I was there and startling me from my observing. I made the decision to move away from the rest of the travelers before I got myself discovered. I did not know what they would do to me if they found me, but I would not try very hard to find out.

I walked towards the edge of the forest, placing my gloved hand on the bark of the tree in front of me and taking one last look at the crowd of men milling about, trying to decide what they needed to build first. I smirked before disappearing into the darkness. Dorothy had trained me in survival methods, and I knew the first thing I had to do was build myself a shelter and find a water source. I wanted to find water first, and then build my shelter a short distance away, but I was open to anywhere for now. When I had a temporary shelter built, then I would worry about moving myself closer to water.

I set my pack down and checked off everything I needed. A small canteen full of water, a large roll of twine, three outfits with men's pants instead of my heavy skirts, a small but sharp knife, pre-portioned food enough for three days, and a lantern, oil, and matches, all of which had been supplied to me by Dorothy. She had had the pack ready and waiting for me at the door the day I found her dead in her bedroom. It was her one last effort to help me. I had also taken a few large handfuls of nails and a couple of small hammers from the cargo in the hull, but I didn't want to risk taking anything else and have the crew start searching for a thief.

I sighed as I picked up my pack again, walking through the brush for another few minutes or so before I came across a clearing. The trees surrounding it almost touched at their trunks because of how large they were, and their canopies knitted together over the space, creating a natural dome. I could see very few holes letting sunlight through, and as I looked around and listened to the sounds coming from the forest, I knew this was exactly where I would build.

The island was strange. I had finished my small cabin one week after finding the clearing and a few months later, headed back to town to see the progress. Something was . . . wrong. Off. Different. Only a dozen or so other buildings had been made since our arrival, and one looked only barely furnished. In truth, the front door seemed about ready to the ground. The _Red Lyon_ had left the harbor, along with the other ships that had embarked on the journey to the New World with her, and the island seemed all the more forlorn because of it. The men seemed to be milling about, and I only shook my head in response.

As I walked through the town, I listened in on the conversations around me. Complaints about the work, the filth, the lack of food, the lack of communication, the lack of women . . . All these men did was complain, and the last of these complaints made me renew my veil rune. I was not taking any chances, especially as I was the only woman in town. They were correct, though. We were not truly prepared for the environment we were brought to, and we were stranded until they returned with more supplies.

We were alone.

I sighed in sympathy for the poor, unhappy souls around me as I thought about my own cabin back in the forest surrounded by game and trees. All of the time they were wasting in their misery could have been used to lessen it, but I was not about to enlighten them. I continued on through the town, listening for any promising conversations, and found one by what appeared to be our mayor's home.

"I know not what to do. The men are becoming restless. The beast lurking in those woods is no friend, and we do not even know how to prepare ourselves against it," a strong male voice said, only slightly lowering his voice.

"I understand, and we need to keep them calm. We have no one to call on to aid us, and we do not need them turning into frightened animals. They are already mulling around like cattle waiting for instruction," his companion whispered, sounding deep in thought. I mused from their words that they were poorly trained Nephilim. A true Nephilim would have known how to defend and defeat any and all possible threats.

"Indeed, and the situation will only get worse until the threat is eliminated. We need to get word to the Council, but we have no portal. The only wizard who accompanied us returned with the ships," the first voice spoke again. I knew now that they were Nephilim, but it did not help me make a decision as to whether or not to reveal myself to them. I continued listening, blocking out the sounds around me as they spoke.

"We have fifty other Nephilim on this island, but with roughly the same amount of humans, finding and destroying this threat without their noticing something will not be easy," he continued thoughtfully.

"What about the prophecy? Has no one heard nor seen this girl who is supposed to save us all?" the other man responded. His words were full of contempt, and I frowned. I knew of the prophecy, and I also knew from Dolores that it was about me, but what I did not understand was his emotion. They knew what the beast in the forest was, so why did they believe they needed me to save them?

"We still have scouts tracking Abaddon's entire lineage, but we have not been successful. One small family was attacked and murdered by Lycans seventy-five years ago, but the daughter was never found. We find it very unlikely that she survived, but if she had, she would be a very old woman. We also have no way of knowing if she had children to carry the line. The rest of the Council believe this to be a wasted effort, as the prophecy clearly states that she will only show herself in our world's time of need."

"Is this not a time of need, Councilman?" the second voice yelled, attempting to keep his voice low but struggling. "We are trying to extend our reach, control more area in order to keep the demons and monsters at bay, and we may have sailed right into the heart of demon land without knowing. A supernatural creature is wandering around our town, not yet threatening us, but who knows when that will end?" I scoffed and rolled my eyes before walking away. I could listen to their complaining no longer. Before I could get out of earshot, though, one last statement met my ears.

"We need to catch her and use her abilities to further . . ."

I took off running, bumping into men and almost tripping over tools abandoned on the ground. I knew someone had seen me from their gasp and exclamation about a woman, but I kept going. I ran all the way back to my home and slammed the door shut, forcing the bar to fall across it to keep them out. In my mind, I knew they had not followed, but I could not get the mayor's statement out of my mind.

" _. . .catch her . . . use her . . . catch her . . ."_

The phrases kept assaulting my mind as I collapsed with my back against the door, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I caught my breath. I needed to be more careful. I would only venture back into town at night, when the men were asleep, and take what I needed. Sighing softly and rising to my feet, I decided I would need to wait quite some time before I dared go back for news. Surely they would be looking for the mystery woman who ran through town. I was careless, but I was not about to stay outside the door of someone who wanted my power for himself.

I only had to wait a few months before the ships returned. They were not the same as those that had brought us originally, but the men did not care at that point. They were scared out of their minds by the creature roaming through the surrounding forest, the identity of which they had still not discovered. They found footprints through the center of town, those quite similar to a dog's, but accompanied by ones with talons, and one had a large grey feather laying on it. I had heard their frenzying even as far away as I had placed myself, and laughed as the griffon hatchling came running back, startled by their noise. Her mother had gone in search of food, and left her child with me.

I had discovered her not long after my flight from the town. She had been watching and followed me back to my home, confusion showing in her intelligent eyes. Something had scratched at my door, and I opened it to come face to face with the young griffon mother. I had stayed perfectly still as she sniffed and assessed me, but her baby had walked up and rubbed her feathered head against my abdomen. That was all it took to gain the trust of the mother, who started frequently using me as a babysitter, which was surprising, seeing as though griffons were not known for their easily trusting and friendly natures.

She was a beautiful creature, standing about six and a half feet tall at the shoulders, with glossy feathers covering the front portion of her body. Her wings were about fifteen feet from tip to tip, and her feathers ranged from a pristine white to dark grey. Her beak was yellow with a deep brown tip, and the hairs covering the rear half of her body matched the light grey feathers of the former portion. The talons of her two front feet were about two inches long, and her rear paws were a shiny black.

Her baby was just a miniature version of her, but her feathers were still fuzzy with youth. She only stood about three feet high, but she seemed to get bigger by the day. She had an obsession with watching the funny humans in town, and would wander over there at night and watch their reactions to finding her footprints the next morning. What made their reactions funnier was the Nephilim members of the town knew what was creating the prints, but had to feign ignorance because of the humans. Their utter frustration at being unable to find the griffon was comical.

They departed as quickly as they could, abandoning anything they did not grab on their first trip to the ships. Food, jewelry, money, tools, and a myriad of other items littered the ground. I took what I wanted once the ships had disappeared over the horizon, which was basically anything I could use or that was not broken. I took the jewelry to barter with if I came across natives who were willing to help me if I needed it, and used the cut wood and nails to improve on my home. I felt bad letting it go to waste.

_1587_

I lived very comfortably for the next year, but the ships returned. Both men and women disembarked, their pressed suits, long skirts, and tight blouses looking ridiculous in the middle of a forest on an island. I leaned against a tree set slightly back from the forest's edge, watching as they looked at what was left of the first attempt to create a colony. The few women immediately complained about the dirt and the smells, but the men ignored them. One older man told them they had come voluntarily and knew what they were coming to, so they shouldn't complain, but they only scoffed in response and turned away.

They settled quickly into the slightly dilapidated houses, using materials they had brought with them to rebuild and build anew. The town quickly grew with these new settlers, but I took notice of the eagerness in which the cut the trees in their way. They wasted much of what they harvested, and I could feel the air on the island changing with every new day. These people, Nephilim and human alike, were angering the island, or at least something on it, but nothing happened for quite some time.

I integrated myself into the town, once again donning my heavy skirts and tight bodice. My home was left open to the griffon and her baby, as well as the food stored inside, as I would not be there to watch the youngling while her mother hunted. They were upset, but I visited often, using the excuse of renewing my supplies to get away from town without followers. I became the town healer, using herbs just as my mother had back in England before the attack. No one asked where I had come from, assuming I came off the boats with them even though my dress was slightly outdated in fashion. When one older woman mentioned it, I told her I did not want to bring my finest to a land where no one would see them but us, and she eagerly accepted the idea. She had come to me for pains, so I gave her some of the white willow bark I had brought with me from my mother's storage. I hadn't been able to grab everything, but I did manage to get most of her herbs. Some of the less used ones were left behind for the sake of space in my pack, but I had been able to find similar plants on the island. This herb actually did heal pain, as I did not want to start using my runes just yet. Rumors about my mother using witchcraft to heal had started circling around before our town was destroyed, and I did not want to encourage those thoughts so soon after their landing on the island.

I started noticing differences in the townsfolk as the air continued to change. They had extended a ways into the forest, leaving downed trees to rot after they had been rolled out of the way. The people moved slower and quickly became listless. No one socialized with others as they had before, and the weekly town meetings stopped. By the time three months had passed, the men seemed to wander around the town in a daze, doing and going nowhere even as their feet brought them forward. All of their eyes were half closed, dull with lifelessness. The women never left the house, either sitting at their dining room tables or laying in bed all day long, only getting up when their hunger became too much to ignore.

I felt no different than I had before, but I did not know what was causing the changes. When I visited the griffon, she seemed subdued, as well, but not in the same way. She seemed to know what was going on and sensed my confusion, bringing me to an ancient oak that seemed to sit directly in the center of the island. As soon as the tree came into view, I knew what had changed.

The wood nymphs were swarming around the tree top, their wings angrily flapping and creating a buzzing like bees. Their auras were flashing dangerously, and I knew immediately that they were using magic to suppress those hurting them. They were going to attack.

"I need to warn them," I whispered, but the griffon only lowered her head. It was too late. The swarm took off towards the village, and the resounding screams chilled me to my core. My veins filled with ice as the sound pierced my skull, and I buried my face in the griffon's neck, wrapping my arms tightly around her.

I suddenly pushed away and ran back, following the sounds of their screams. I could hear the two of them following behind, but she did not try to stop me. I erupted through the brush, my skirts snagging on the small branches. Some of the men and women had broken out of their trance and were trying to bat the nymphs away. I went to help, drawing a seraph blade from my skirts, and they screamed.

"Get away, witch! Why did you do this? Why did you bring these monsters to us? What did we do?" they screamed at me, and I backed away as though they had physically struck me.

"I didn't . . ." I started, shaking my head, but they weren't listening.

Someone came up behind me and dragged me away, telling me to follow him to safety, and I didn't fight. He led me back into the forest, where the mayor and one of the Nephilim council members were also hiding. They stared at me as I hid behind a tree, peaking around the edge to see the group I had been trying to help fall to the ground dead. Their bodies, like the others that had been killed by the nymphs, were absorbed into the ground beneath them, leaving nothing to hint at their presence.

"What brought this upon us?" the mayor asked aloud, not directing his question to anyone in particular.

"We angered them," I whispered. "We were cutting down their homes without cause without regret. That is what drove them to this madness." I was not sure I should have spoken, but it was too late to take it back.

"What do you mean, girl?" he asked, glaring at me. I glared back.

"If you do not keep your voice down, they will find you and kill you like the others," I said curtly. "And I know because I was here when the ships arrived the first time. When you and the others arrived, I felt the change in the island. With every day you cut down and wasted what you had taken, you angered the nymphs more and more. They finally had enough."

"You must be joking," one of the councilmen scoffed. "Why don't you leave the mystery to the men for now, little girl? We'll protect you," he said, pulling out his own seraph blade.

"I do not need your help, and I am much older than you assume, Councilman," I responded lowly.

"You look no older than eighteen summers, girl. Do not lie to a man. You are no good at it," he laughed, and his fellow members quickly joined in. I could feel my anger rising. He looked no older than thirty-five himself.

"I am almost a full century old, dear Councilman," I said, feeling my power show itself. My hair started blowing lightly as the air around me was disturbed, and their eyes widened. "You will show some respect to your elders, even if I am a woman." With that, I turned and walked back into the destroyed town. They called after me, finally realizing who it was they had had standing right next to them, and pursued me.

"Catch her!" the mayor called. "Don't let her get away!" I turned around and watched them quickly approach, knowing they would never get their hands on me. As expected, the nymphs rained down on the remaining offenders, quickly but not so quietly killing them. The ground eagerly swallowed them even before they had released their last breaths. I felt guilt begin rising in me, an image of an angel surrounded by fire and darkness flashing through my mind. As I looked upon the now-deserted colony, I truly felt like the daughter of destruction.

Abaddon's daughter.

The griffon and her hatchling came up behind me, the mother resting her neck on my shoulder and the baby bumping my hand with her face. I smiled sadly at each of them as a short vision hit me.

_Busy, filthy streets. People running to and fro, trying to get somewhere, but nowhere apparent. London, 1663._

"I think it is time to move on. I have to go home. Will you join me?" They both nodded, and we headed back home to prepare for the journey.


	4. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3: 1663_

_Place: London, England_

Neera jumped off the chair she had perched herself on and landed with a light click of her nails against the cobblestone road. Running up to me and meowing loudly, she launched herself into my arms. It was starting to rain, and she was quickly becoming upset. I laughed lightly and opened my front door, smiling as she purred loudly.

Neera was my cat. I had found her as an older kitten when I first made my landing in England eight years ago, and she hadn't left my side since. She hunted on her own, and came and went as she pleased, but she always made it home before dark and before it started raining. She hated being wet, and refused to leave the house until the ground was dry. She was all dark colors, mostly black and brown, with a white dot right on the tip of her chin and another at the end of her tail.

The griffon had died almost a decade ago, and her hatchling had found her mate and left. She died right before I set sail for England, seeing her daughter and me off. I thought back to what kind of reaction the humans would have had if they had been able to see me being followed around by a half-lion, half-eagle creature standing over six feet tall at the top of her head. For some reason, only Nephilim and other magical beings could see supernatural creatures, but it made our lives easier when we were hunting; the humans didn't panic if they didn't know what was around them. They could see human disguises and glamours, but they did not have the ability to see beyond them. Creatures like the griffon did not have a disguise, and so were not seen at all. Humans would walk right through them without any knowledge, and the creatures wouldn't feel it, either. The humanoid nature of magical beings and Nephilim acted as a bridge between the worlds, so to speak.

I set my keys and my bag down on the kitchen table and Neera climbed up on my shoulder. She was a petite thing, so she fit perfectly. My clients loved coming in for treatments and having her visit them. She could be nasty with people she didn't know or didn't like, but she was a love any other time. People called her my guard cat, as I lived by myself and my neighbors had worried about me when I first moved in. They were not far off. She once attacked a man who had come by without an appointment, resulting in my having to heal those wound, as well. Neera also had a very keen sense of the supernatural, but that was not uncommon in animals. She had a different reaction to the different kinds of monsters we would come across, but only those who used human disguises or glamours to hide their true forms.

I went into the clinic, which was in the basement, and took stock of the herbs and spices sitting on the shelves. The first thing I had done when I bought the one-story home was convert the basement into a functioning medical clinic. I had collected everything I could carry from the island, so I was very well stocked. I had added to that the plants I remembered from my mother's practice, collecting them from the forests and clearings a small distance outside of London. I was only using runes for ailments I did not have a medicinal cure for, but no one acted the wiser.

All of my clients were humans, as Nephilim could use their own runes and other supernatural beings had their own way to heal themselves. The other beings usually stayed as far away from Nephilim as possible, but they sometimes came to me to restock their own supply of medicinal plants. Nephilim were charged with protecting humans from monsters, demons, and other creatures, but I was not like the zealots who tried to kill any non-Nephilim supernatural who walked by. If they were doing nothing wrong, I did not bother them, and they did not bother me.

I had killed a few werewolves stalking school children as they walked home and a coven of vampires torturing the homeless during my eight years in London, but I hadn't heard until only a few days ago about the human religious group hunting for vampires in the tunnels and abandoned buildings. They had apparently killed a few groups of homeless people, accusing them of being vampires, but no one would tell me where they were. No one knew. One client had heard that the reverend had handed over leadership to his son, who was slightly more capable, but I had no proof of this. I was waiting for another vision to tell me where they would head next.

As I thought back to the vision that drove me to London so long ago, I realized I had never had a vision so far in the future. Normally, they were only a few hours ahead and of someone being targeted by a supernatural. They also always came true because it was my job to make sure of it. Anything I saw would come to pass, but the events before and after the segment of the future I saw could change. This wasn't like that. This had been only a place and a year, not a person or an event. I had had no idea why I needed to be in London by this time, but apparently I did. I would find out soon enough.

Sighing softly, I tallied up the numbers and made a short list of plants I needed to collect in a few days. I had no appointments after the next two days, so I decided to use the time wisely. Patches of each of the plants could be found in the forest a few miles from my home, and it would give me time to myself, just to think.

Neera led me back up the stairs, but stopped and looked at me half-way up. I held tightly to the railing as my vision changed from my basement stairs to a clearing with a small stream running off to the side. I had seen it before as I was collecting roots, but before I could contemplate why I would be having a vision of the place, I had another:

_A young man, most likely in his mid-twenties, stood before a small crowd holding stakes and torches. He had light blond hair, blue eyes, and sharp features. He was of medium build, but to those standing before him, he was ten feet tall. They seemed to worship him as he spoke, telling them of the coven of vampire—a true coven—that had been discovered living in the tunnels. He wanted to lead them to destroy the "monstrosities," "the unholy beings of the night," but was warning them of the dangers. How some may not return whole or even alive. _Right as the group was cheering their support and agreement, the vision flashed ahead.

_The same young man was crouched down with a stake in one hand and a dying torch in the other. His face was screwed up in concentration as he darted forward and swung the stake at an invisible assailant. A hiss could be heard from the same direction, and the vampire sprung forward, causing the man to lose his grip on the stake and crash into the brick wall behind him. His head cracked against the wall, and he crumpled to the ground. The torch sputtered and died as the vampire lunged forward, sinking his fangs into the man's neck._

The vision ended with the blond man screaming out in pain and time slipping three days ahead to when his agony finally ended. Between his screaming and the passage of time, I knew for certain that this man was going to turn into a vampire. From what I could tell, the attack would happen this very night.

What I did not understand was why I had these visions. I guessed that the clearing was where I had to be in . . . four days, but the second was puzzling. Normally, I had visions of things I had to either cause or prevent from happening to someone, but what I had seen was something that was going to happen no matter what.

I sighed softly, my vision finally bringing me back to Neera and my basement. She sat on her step and meowed at me, tilting her head to the side. I gave her a small smile and patted her head lightly, scooping her up into my arms when she started to purr. I nuzzled my face against her as I continued up the stairs and laughed when she licked my nose.

"My plans have changed a little, my old friend," I said, looking down at her graying face. Neera meowed in response, knowing whenever I had a vision and said that, I had a mission. She was nine or ten years old, but she was still going strong. She wasn't nearly the feisty alley cat I had first met, but she still had fight left in her.

"Someone is going to be changed, little girl, and I have to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone. I want you to stay here, though. I'll be fine on this one," I continued. She rolled onto her back in my arms and gave me what could have only been a skeptical look, causing me to laugh again and kiss her head.

"Trust me, little one. And if something happens, I know you'll be here to tell me 'I told you so.' Okay?" She only huffed in response, turning away but not jumping from my arms.

Carrying her to my room, I walked straight to my closet and parted the few clothes I had hanging with one hand. The door behind them matched perfectly with the walls on either side, making it nearly impossible to see unless the person looking knew it was there. I pressed in the very center of the door, forcing it back into the track that would allow it to slide open.

Lining the walls were every weapon known to the Nephilim world, everything from swords, scimitars, silver bullets, and wooden stakes. I had everything I could ever need to kill any kind of being, creature, or demon, but the most important of them all was my seraph blades. These were blessed knives that Nephilim used against any and all supernaturals, calling upon the name of an angel to activate them.

As I grabbed two, they were only three inches long from tip to tip. If I were to activate them, they would grow to at least four-inch blades with three-inch handles, much more deadly than they looked inactivated. The stakes were made of white ash and roughly four inches long. Vampires were paralyzed by the stakes if they were hit anywhere but their heart, but a stake to the heart would immediately kill them, causing their corpses to fade to their actual age. The myth that vampires burst into flames in the sun was false, although they did find it uncomfortable. One vampire had told me it felt as though they were getting a burn, but it did not increase in intensity the longer they were out. It did, though, make the physical differences between them and humans more obvious, forcing them to stay out of the sun as much as possible if they did not want us or their own rulers after them for exposing their race. Burning or staking them were the only ways to kill them. Decapitation also worked, if one could get close enough without being killed in the process.

The silver knives standing at attention on one of the shelves were for Lycans, even though humans believe it was werewolves that were affected by the metal. Werewolves could die from an ordinary stab wound, but only as long as it killed them immediately. If they had time to heal, the likelihood of them healing enough to survive increased.

Those were only two of the weapons I had lining my walls, but I did not take the time to inventory all of them. I knew the species I was going up against, so I took what I needed, secured them in my skirts, and closed the door again. I had sewn special loops and pockets in the folds so that I was always armed, and no one was the wiser. I rarely had to use my weapons, but I felt safer with them.

Walking to the front door, I deposited Neera on the floor. She mewled in protest, but only sat where I had put her with her tail wrapped around her little feet. I wrote a quick note to my clients that I would be gone for a few days, but would get in touch with them as soon as I returned and posted it on the outside of my door. My Nephilim clients would know I was hunting, but my human ones would assume something had taken me away for a short time. They never asked, as I never pried when they cancelled last-minute, and for that, I was grateful.

The look Neera was giving me said she was going to wait there until I returned, and I could not stop myself from petting her one more time before grabbing my hooded cloak and locking the door behind me.

I raised my hood and started walking towards the closest tunnel entrance a few streets over. It was in the basement of an abandoned house owned by the Nephilim Council for just that reason. It gave us direct and constant access to a place the vampires frequented.  
I suddenly heard someone calling my name from behind me, and turned to see a young man, only in his late teenage years, running up to me. He had short brown hair and features that hinted at his young age, but showed his approaching manhood. The only problem was . . . he would never reach it.

Darrel was a vampire, changed just shy of his eighteenth birthday. I had met him only one year into his new life and one year after I returned to England, giving him the choice of gaining control over himself or having me kill him. He had been attacking humans in smaller towns around London, and pleaded with me to help him control himself . . .

"_Please . . ._ Please _help me . . ." the young vampire begged, throwing himself to the ground at my feet. "I don't want this . . . I don't want to _be_ this . . . but I don't want to die. I don't want to _kill_. I can't fight this . . . It's so strong . . ."_

"_How willing are you to try, young one?" I asked calmly, keeping my seraph blade at the ready. "I am willing to help, but only if you are willing to try. I will not hesitate to end your life if you disobey me." He started nodding before I had even finished, and vocalized the same response once I finished._

"_I am. I will try anything I have to. Please, just help me," he murmured, fighting against the impulse to bury his face in his hands and sob. I debated my decision for a moment before kneeling in front of him, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder and waiting until his blood-stained face tilted up to look at me. Even his red eyes begged me to help, screamed at me to do something before he went mad with guilt and misery. His mouth was half open in anxiety as he waited for my response, showing me his extended canines._

"_Focus on your mouth, young one. Retract your fangs. You do this, and I will help you. If you cannot, I will know that your thirst has become too powerful. Now imagine your fangs shrinking, will them to do so," I explained, keeping my hand on him as he nodded again, his desperation to do as I said obvious in the stilted movement. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his bloody mouth forming a thin line in concentration . . ._

"It's a setup, Miss Bella," he said quickly, bringing me out of my memory. "The coven set everything up. They heard about this group and the change in leadership, and they want to make an example of these humans. They are prepared for their arrival, Miss Bella, and they plan to slaughter them," he finished, the rest of the air he needed to talk rushing from his chest with a soft _whoosh_.

"How did this happen, Darrel?" I asked, running through all of the possibilities of what I could be walking into. He sighed softly.

"They had been watching the group go after what they thought to be vampire covens. Once the father handed over the reins, they decided to just take them out. They are still watching them, and the clan leader thinks their deaths will send a message to other hunters. One of the people in the group is part of the coven, and he told them about the coven hiding out in the tunnels tonight. The coven was told by a Volturi guard member to keep out of sight, to let the hype die down, but they are not listening. They do not want to deny themselves the fun of killing hunters," he finished with a sickened grimace. His red eyes showed his disgust at their blatant disrespect for life, something his experience had told him to cherish.

When he had finally managed to control himself a year after I began working with him, he started hunting and taking only small amounts of blood from his victims before compelling them to forget what happened. He kept himself very well sated so that he would never be tempted to drain someone and showed his gratitude towards me by keeping me up to date as much as he could on the inner workings of the vampire world.

The Volturi was the largest coven of vampires in the world with an ever-increasing number of members. They had ruled over and enforced the laws of the vampire world for over twenty-seven hundred years. Their main rule? Don't expose their world to humans. Any vampire or coven that broke this rule was immediately destroyed. They also fed from humans, but from what Darrel had overheard, they killed all of their human victims.

"How many are in this coven?" I asked, and he immediately answered with, "Four, and all of them have been vampires for around fifty years." I nodded slowly, thinking this would not be easy. Lives would definitely be lost this night, but I knew from my vision that my main concern was keeping the young blond man alive until he finished his change to vampire. For whatever reason, he needed to be changed and survive it. I turned and started walking towards the tunnels again, but Darrel grabbed my wrist.

"Miss Bella, where are you going?" he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"I need to save as many of those people as I can, Darrel, and one of them in particular. I do not know how or why, but he is important and needs to live, even as a vampire. I will move him somewhere so he may finish his change, but I will not intentionally interfere afterwards unless I am given a good reason," I explained, and he nodded solemnly. He had tried to get me to change my mind before, but I knew my visions showed me people and events that were important in some way. These recent visions may have confused me, but that much I knew for certain. He _had_ to become a vampire, and he _had_ to survive.

"Then I am coming with you," he said, and continued before I could protest. "I will stay in the shadows and only come out if I see you needing help. Besides, you may need me once this person has made the change. You did smell human-like to me when I was a newborn, you know." I gave him a small smile and we ran to the entrance of the tunnels, watching the setting sun count down the minutes until what could only be a bloody confrontation.


	5. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4: Carlisle Cullen_

_London, 1663_

I looked over the small crowd gathered before me, my heart beating fast with anticipation for what was to come. Each man standing before me had either a stake or a lit torch in his hand, and some had both. They were waiting for my announcement with baited breath, staring at me as I stood on the front steps of my father's church. I had taken over as the group's lead hunter when my father's age began slowing his movements, and this would be my first hunt as such.

One of the hunters in the group, Jonathan, had informed me the previous day of a coven living in the abandoned tunnels under the city. Our plan was to ambush them in their home and destroy them. He said his source only mentioned two or three living there, so a group of six plus myself were going to take it.

I cleared my throat to get the attention of the men standing before me, clasping my hands behind my back as I started speaking. They listened with rapt attention as I tried my best to prepare them for what we were about to do.

"My friends, what we are about to do tonight is cleanse this city of its biggest threat: the vampires," I started, making eye contact with each and every one of them at least once. My voice was serious and just loud enough for them to hear me. I was not preaching to them about why this had to happen or how it was to be done; they already knew. I was speaking from my heart, making sure they knew just how serious I was taking this attack and how important it was that we were successful.

"They are not the first to threaten the lives of our fellow citizens, and they may not be the last, but we will make an example of these monstrosities and send a message to all those thinking of coming here. The unholy beings of the night shall threaten us no more after this day, and we will destroy all those who follow after." I paused as they cheered, giving them a moment before the tone of my speech would change. I dropped my voice low, as it had slowly risen as I spoke, and continued.

"I am honored to lead you in this fight, my friends, but you all know the dangers we are about to face. These beings feed on us like we feed on animals, and they will not hesitate to kill any one of us. Some of you may not come back the way you stand before me and next to your allies now, and some of you may not come back at all. I know you are aware of these dangers, but I most implore you to think of the consequences that would result from your death." I paused again, looking out over the small gathering before me.

"Think of your family and friends, think of what you want to accomplish in your life, and then decide for sure if you want to participate. No one will think less of you if you were to choose to stay behind. A broken family is no better than a family threatened by vampires, but I would rather see it stand up to these beasts whole if the time ever came that they came out of the shadows. So, my friends, now you must decide. Do you stay here and guarantee your existence for future attacks, or do you go with me and try to prevent those attacks from ever occurring?" After a few moments of thought, Jonathan stepped forward and turned to face the crowd.

"I lost my entire family to these god-forsaken monsters. I have nothing to lose anymore, and I will not stand by and allow other families to be threatened if I have the chance to prevent it," he seethed, surprising us all. He was normally very quiet; he had never told us about the loss of his family, and he had been hunting with us for about a year. His speech seemed to spur on the decisions of the rest of the group, bringing all of them forward with determination written on their faces. I looked at each and every one of them individually, looking for any hint of indecision, no matter how brief, and nodded once.

"We shall leave immediately. Grab what you need if you have not already and meet back here in ten minutes. We need to be in those tunnels before the sun sets."

Only a small crescent was left of the sun as it disappeared behind the horizon. The streets of London at the end of the city were still and silent. Not even the insects dared make a sound. The sky quickly darkened above us as we approached the manhole cover that would land us in the old tunnels, setting the mood for what we were about to attempt.

Jonathan and Henry ran ahead of the group, looking around before pulling up the cover and setting it aside as quietly as possible. Jonathan looked inside quickly before waving us forward, climbing down the ladder and dropping to the ground with only a light _thump_. The rest of us followed, with me taking the rear, dragging the cover back over the hole in order to not draw attention to where we were. As I drew the cover back into its slot, I thought I saw movement at the side of one of the abandoned houses only feet away, but in the few extra seconds I took before setting the cover down, I saw nothing else. I sighed softly, berating myself for being so easily spooked, but I knew it was the nature of our mission that had me seeing things.

As soon as my feet touched the ground, the group parted to allow me to lead them through the tunnels. They were set up like a maze, but each of us had snuck down here as children and explored little by little. Jonathan told us of a room forming a dead end at one of the tunnels, our first target, so he followed me to the front of the group and we led the way.

We moved as silently as possible, our feet barely making scuffing sounds as we ran through the passages. Our torches were the only signals of our approach, and we waved those holding them towards the back of the group. Once we were close, they stayed back as those with stakes and large knives crouched down and moved forward. I pulled my own stake from the waist of my pants, grasping it tightly in my right hand as I leaned forward to look around the corner.

I could see three human-like bodies sitting in the dim room, light from what could only be another manhole shining down. Two females, one male. The numbers seemed odd, but I shrugged it off. One of the females must not have found her mate. They were standing in the center of the small room, apparently discussing something of only minor importance. Their body language told me they were waiting for something and were only wasting time.

I turned to Jonathan, who nodded at me once that he was ready, and the others followed suit as I looked at each of them. I gestured to the others that they were to follow after us, and they nodded in understanding. Inhaling deeply and slowly letting my breath out, I sprung forward and ran for the coven, my stake drawn back and ready to strike.

Something was wrong. They smiled as we ran forward, causing me to stop just short of entering the room. The others charged right past, not paying attention to anything but washing their stakes in the blood of the monsters. It was their blood, though, that was spilled.

The vampires darted forward and slashed the first three men across the neck, causing their bodies to drop to the floor. I grabbed at the others as they continued on, yelling at them to stop and turn back, but none of them listened. None of them heard.

As the bodies continued to drop and blood was uselessly spilled onto the floor of the abandoned tunnel, I noticed Jonathan standing on the other side of the entrance, staring at the carnage. It was not disgust or horror I saw on his face, though. No . . . Enjoyment. Excitement. Pride. These were the emotions crossing his face as he slowly turned to face me, fangs extending and dimpling his smiling lips.

I crouched down with a stake in one hand and reached down to grab a dying torch in the other. I screwed my face up in concentration as I darted forward, swinging the stake at Jonathan. He hissed before springing forward, slapping the stake from my hand and shoving me into the brick wall behind me. My head cracked against the wall, and I crumpled to the ground in a heap. The torch sputtered and died as it rolled out of my grasp, and Jonathan lunged forward, sinking his fangs into my neck.

I cried out in pain as a sense of acceptance slowly came over me. My energy was quickly being taken from my body, and I looked to the glowing embers of the torch as my father's face appeared before my eyes. He was smiling sadly, his white collar a stark contrast to the black suit adorning his ailing form. I could see his lips moving as he spoke, but I could hear nothing.

My mind became consumed by the fact that I had failed him, failed to complete my first mission as leader of our hunting group. And I was dying. The beasts I had come to kill had herded me to my death like sheep to the slaughter, and I did not see it happening until it was too late. I was too willing to accept and trust Jonathan, accept his story and show him the compassion I felt he needed after losing so much, and my compassion turned against me.

Jonathan suddenly pulled away from me, looking behind him towards the entrance of the tunnel. My vision swam from the blow to my head and loss of blood, but I could see someone running towards us. He dropped me on the ground, the back of my head hitting the wall again as I fell and he darted forward. I heard his body crash into something, the sound like stone against stone, as another form crouched down next to me. Long hair brushed against my face as small, careful hands examined the wound to my neck. I could feel the vampire's venom as it started spreading through my veins, its speed increasing as it moved like liquid fire, chilling me to the bone but burning me from the inside.

"Stay with me," a female voice said. She sounded so far away as her voice echoed through my head. "Tell me your name."

"Ca-Carlisle," I stuttered, losing control of my body as it burned. I cried out once, curling in on myself as I tried to protect my body from the burning to no avail.

"What is your last name?" she pressed, her hands on either side of my face. I grabbed them, pressing her cool skin against my flesh as I answered, my body fighting against my commands.

"Cullen. Car-Carlisle Cullen," I rasped, and I saw her nod.

"I'm going to heal the injury to your head and see what I can do about the bite," she explained quickly, drawing something from her skirts. She sighed softly as she drew something on my scalp, right above where I had felt my head hit the wall. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you sooner, Carlisle, but for some reason, you need to turn into a vampire. I wish I could tell you why, but all I know is that you need to change, and you need to survive. You have something big ahead of you, Carlisle Cullen," she said as she drew what felt like the same sign between the bite marks on my neck. I did not understand what she meant, but I had a more important question at that moment, and I had to ask it before the pain became too much. I could feel whatever she was doing drive it away, but it was building back up again.

"Who are you?" I gasped as the growing bubble of pain threatened to choke me. She smiled softly and cupped one side of my face, her silver eyes burrowing into mine.

"My name is Isabella Swan. Any more than that would take too long to explain here," she said, just as Jonathan was thrown behind her. Whoever she had come with was fighting him, but Jonathan took the opportunity to grab Isabella around her waist and hold her in front of his body. He hissed in her ear, placing his mouth against her skin as a threat to the other person in the tunnel. Jonathan's back was to me as he held Isabella, who was trying desperately to pry his arm from around her throat.

"Come any closer, traitor, and she will die," he hissed, grabbing a handful of Isabella's hair and pulling her head to the side.

The other person—who I could now see was male—looked conflicted as he glanced from the stakes littering the ground to Isabella's struggling form. She looked like she was unable to breathe, between Jonathan's arm clamped around her abdomen and the other against her neck. I looked to the ground next to me, feeling that bubble burst as I grabbed the stake laying there and threw myself at Jonathan, plunging it into his lower back. I fell forward, unable to catch myself as the pain finally engulfed my body, quickly surpassing the level of pain I had been before Isabella had healed my injuries. A scream ripped itself from my throat before I could suppress it, but I doubted I would have had the strength to do so. I squeezed my eyes shut as the pain spiraled out from the center of my body, reaching from the crown of my head to my toes. I faintly heard a scream from somewhere close by, a scream of pain and death, before Isabella's voice reached for my conscience once again.

"We need to get him out of the tunnels, Darrel," she said, her voice sounding distant and haunted. "We need to move him to the abandoned factory at the edge of the city."

"Why? What will happen if we don't?" a male voice, whom I assumed to be this Darrel, said curiously as a pair of hands turned me onto my back again. I could no longer see anything around me, but I could feel Isabella's hand in mine. I tried not to crush her hand as another wave of pain engulfed my body, forcing me onto my side as my body curled up. She only responded to my grip by placing her other hand around our already clasped hands, trying to comfort me in any way she could.

"I don't know," she whispered, answering Darrel's question. "My visions have been telling me what is going to happen instead of what I need to make happen, so I am going to take him to the factory, and from what I can tell, I will have to leave him there to decide for himself what he is going to do next. His decision feels predetermined, but I cannot see what it is." Her soft voice soothed my mind as my body flinched, cringed, and cramped in agony. I no longer hand control over any part of my body, and I yelled as my hand clamped down on hers. Only after the wave slightly subsided what felt like an eternity later did her words register. I only managed to think about her leaving me alone to wake up as a vampire before I was wracked with pain once more.

**BPOV**

Carlisle Cullen's agonized cries echoed from the abandoned factory's basement as I closed the only working entrance behind me. An entire section of the building had collapsed from a fire, but the town council had yet to order the rest destroyed. It was isolated from the rest of the city, and no one ventured near it because of the safety risk it posed, making it the perfect place to bring the young man to complete his transformation. Darrel offered to stay with him to make sure no one decided the next three days would be a good time to explore, as well as keep an eye on Carlisle in case he went rogue. I did not believe he would, but I was not able to see his decision in my vision. Darrel knew he was not to interfere unless Carlisle gave him a reason to do so.

I returned home, walking slowly and thinking over the events of the night. All of the vampires were dead, as well as the hunters who had been tricked into believing they were secretly attacking a coven. Carlisle Cullen was going through his change from human to vampire, something that, for some unknown reason, needed to happen.

I sighed as I stepped through my front door, thinking about the amount of death that had occurred this night. Neera jumped into my arms, settling herself on my shoulder as I gazed out the window. She did the same, wrapping her tail around herself and watching the silent streets and clear sky. The harvest moon stared back at us, the orange color bringing back to my mind the rust-like color of the tunnel floors, the blood drying where it landed. Night had taken her harvest, and I prayed that she would be satisfied, at least for now.


	6. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5: 1663_

_Place: London, England_

I tossed and turned every night after leaving Carlisle to his fate. I never fully fell asleep, and any time I was almost there, something would startle me back into wakefulness. I eventually just got out of bed, using the time to patrol the streets before the rest of the city awakened. Neera walked with me, using the time to show me all of her little hideouts as we passed them, running ahead and disappearing before launching out at me like she had been lying in wait for her prey. I laughed lightly and shook my head, eventually scooping her up and walking with her on my shoulder. This became our morning routine, and she couldn't get enough of our time together.

The third day of Carlisle's transformation arrived, and I was once again hit with the vision of the field. At six o'clock the next morning, I would be in that field. Why, I could only imagine, but that was there I needed to—and would—be.

Sighing softly, I stood from my place at the table and cleaned my breakfast dishes. The sun was just gracing the streets of London when I threw back the curtains above the sink. Neera jumped up next to me and sat down on her back legs, balancing by placing one of her front paws against my upper arm. I looked down at her and she meowed softly, looking towards the door and back. I chuckled softly and kissed her head.

"We can go for a quick walk, but I have an early appointment today," I murmured, talking to her as though she could understand. I truly felt she could, and the resigned acceptance I saw on her furry face strengthened my belief. Shaking my head as I opened the front door, she ran out and pranced down the street like a young kitten, swaying her tail back and forth. We made a large circle and made it back to the house minutes before my client arrived.

It was a quaint little house, only one story above the ground. It had two bedrooms, the master and a guest, and one bathroom. The kitchen and living room were small, and part of the living room had been turned into a dining room, with only a table and four chairs as furniture. I hadn't done much with it since I bought it, knowing I may not stay long enough to fully appreciate any work I put into it.

Mrs. Helen Jameson knocked, and I let her in, listening to her babble on about the past few days and the impending rain. She sat down on the chair next to my workbench and continued on about nonsense I didn't care about, and I made noise at appropriate moments to make her think I was listening as I mixed together the herbs I needed. She was pregnant, and she had an extremely petite frame, making her situation all the more dangerous as the day of her child's birth approached. I thought she would be having the child within the week, with how large she was, and her doctor agreed. Mrs. Jameson had come to me as soon as she thought she was pregnant, and I had been giving her supplements for strengthening her body ever since. I ticked off the three different concoctions I needed—one for muscular strength, one for endurance, and one for quick recovery—just as she said something that piqued my interest.

"Have you heard about the plague on the mainland? Susan Taylor informed me of it yesterday. Apparently, her neighbor's family live near the shore, and they fell ill only a few days ago with boils and a hacking cough. None of the physicians have been able to cure them," she rambled on.

"This is the same plague from years ago? The Black Death?" I asked, startling her as I finally spoke for the first time since greeting her.

"Why, yes, I believe it is. The last word was that it was dying out, but the outbreaks here on the island are rapidly increasing. The latest reported case was only a few kilometers outside the city limits. I overheard one of the priests mentioning the Black Death in the history books from two hundred years ago or so. I don't really remember, but I'm starting to worry. My child is about to enter a world threatened by a disease killing people wherever it goes," she answered solemnly, leaning back as I listened intently to her explanation. I absorbed her words as I turned back to my table, grabbing my stele along with the mortar and pestle to grind the herbs.

_This cannot be_, I thought to myself. _The Black Death was supposed to have died out thirty years ago. Why would it be sprouting again_? Sitting on a stool next to her and grinding up her supplements, I tried to think of an explanation for the sudden recurrence. The only plausible explanation was that someone had brought it back. Before I lost myself in trying to find out a way to discover who, I explained what I wanted to do to help her and her child.

"Helen, I may be able to help you. I know this may seem strange, but . . . I can draw a symbol on your skin that will keep you safe from this sickness. It would not be able to touch you or your child, as long as your child is within you. Precautions would need to be taken before the baby is born to get it away from the sickness, but it would guarantee your life in order for you to do so," I explained quietly, thinking I would also need to activate the rune on myself. She gave me a hesitant look as I finished the preparations for the herbal tea the ground plants would make. I could see the worry in her eyes as I finally met her gaze.

"What are you telling me, Isabella?" she asked slowly, her body gradually tensing as she straightened in her seat. I sighed softly. And looked at the pure white stick of wood laying across my lap.

"I'm telling you that I am able to guarantee your life, Helen. I can do things that only a small number of people can, and one of these things will allow me to save you and your child. All I have to do is draw a small symbol of protection on your skin with this," I explained, lifting my stele to show her. "It will not hurt either of you, and like I already mentioned, it will give you the time you need to get away from here until the disease dies out. Both of you will survive."

Helen sat in front of me, staring down at my stele with an intense and frightened look on her face. I could almost see her thoughts flying as she tried to decide what to do, for her sake and her unborn child's. I felt bad about putting her in such a position without warning, but left her to her thoughts for a few more moments before speaking up.

"Helen, you can say no. I will not be upset, and I will not stop giving you your supplements if you refuse my assistance. You may even decide you do not want to come back to me, and that is fine, as well. I am only giving you an option. I do think you need to leave the city before the Death gets any closer, but the choice is yours in the end," I said, trying to ease her worry about any consequences she may have foreseen. She seemed slightly grateful for my words, but still fearful of me after what I told her.

I sighed softly and put the pestle on the workbench behind me, grabbing a glass jar and carefully pouring the ash-like herbs down the mouth and into the body. Neera jumped up next to me, meowing softly and rubbing her face against my cheek as she felt my sadness and apprehension. She licked my forehead before walking the table to sit near Helen, who had watched our interaction. Her mind was far away as she reached towards Neera, who immediately began purring and pressing herself against Helen's hand. She was trying her best to make the two of us feel better, and from what I could tell by subtly watching Helen's eyes, it was working for one of us. She had made her decision.

"Okay," she whispered, finally returning to the basement. She gave Neera a soft smile as I turned to face her, tilting my head to the side.

"May I ask why?" I responded softly, purely out of curiosity. She gave a small smile.

"You have a heart large enough to bring a stray kitten into your home and love her like she was your own child. She loves so dearly, no matter what you are, who you are, or what you can do." She paused in her explanation, catching her breath as her eyes moistened with tears.

"Isabella . . . I see in you when you look at Neera what I want others to see when I look at my child. For you to have soul so kind, you could never harm me. That was what I thought, at first . . . that you would end up being one of those crazy people that would hurt me and my child, but I know in my heart that you are not that kind of person. I would not trust anyone else like I am trusting you right now, and I have Neera to thank for it." Neera thanked her by jumping into her lap and rubbing her small body against Helen's stomach, purring loudly. We both smiled at her reaction before looking at each other for a few moments in silence.

"Thank you for that, Helen. You do not know what it means to me to hear you say that," I whispered almost inaudibly, wiping away a stray tear. "Truth be told, Neera is all I have. She gets all of my love because I have no one else to give it to. I'm not saying I would love her any less if I did have someone, but I can focus so much more on her because of my situation. My job and my secret have not made my life easy, so it warms me to know I am still able to show people who I really am."

"Oh, honey, no one so young should have to live alone," she responded, scooping Neera into one arm and standing next to me, her other arm wrapped around my shoulders. Neera freed herself from our embrace, allowing Helen to fully embrace my crumbling form as I tried to hold myself together. I couldn't even respond, knowing that as soon as my mouth opened, the sobs I was restraining wound break free.

She held me for a few moments as I clung to her clothes, unable to wrap my arms around her because of her large bump. Her hand travelled from the top of my head and down my back, soothingly petting my hair as she murmured things I couldn't hear over my constricted sobs. When I finally managed to stop my tears and pry my face from her skirts, she was waiting for me to look at her with a face full of understanding and sympathy. She sat back down in her chair and just looked at me, waiting for me to make the next move. She wasn't trying to push me, for which I was grateful. Handing her the jar of herbs and holding my hand out for her arm, I grabbed my stele and mentally prepared myself for what I was about to do: use my power on a human who knew what I could do, or at least knew what I had been willing to tell her. She may not know it, but she was safer knowing as little as possible about me and what I could do. No one was after me, but I knew it was only a matter of time before someone investigating the prophecy (as they had been for decades) found my name and started the search for me. As the Roanoke colonists made obvious, the Nephilim would do anything to find and use me, and I did not doubt that using runes to search the minds of humans for a memory of me would not be considered illegal.

Helen offered me her bracelet-adorned wrist, silently asking me to place my mark there, where it was less likely to be seen. I cradled her wrist in my grasp, holding her tight enough to keep her from moving, but loose enough that she wasn't uncomfortable. The tip of my stele pressed lightly against her delicate, light skin, and she fidgeted as it warmed with power. The protection rune stemmed from the Wiccan religion, a trident-like form resembling the trunk of a tree with two limbs reaching for the sky, and Helen gasped in what sounded like delight at the design. She still remained silent, though, not willing to break the silence before me. As I finished the symbol, I sat back and sighed softly, laying my stele on the counter.

"Thank you," I whispered, unable to look at Helen as I did so.

"For what?" she responded just as quietly. A small smile adorned my face as I answered her.

"For accepting me for who I am . . . for not running away from me . . . for understanding and trusting me. I have not had that in a very long time." I could feel my eyes burning with fresh tears and frantically swiped at my eyes to keep the moisture back. I would not be caught breaking down twice in one evening.

"Oh, honey, everyone has their problems and secrets, and you are too young to have had to deal with so much already. At only eighteen years of age, you have your own home, business, and way of life. You should only be concerned with the suitors your father has found for you at this time in your life, but you have been forced way beyond that. You have aged way beyond your years, Isabella, and that is not a pressure that should have been put on you," she said, kneeling in front of me and taking my hands in hers.

I could feel the sympathy and sadness at my condition rolling off of her, but I still could not look at her. Sympathy was not what I needed. I needed to go back in time and die with my family. I needed this curse to be removed. I needed to find someone I could live with who wouldn't grow old and die, leaving me to live on alone once again. I had Darrel now, but I had no guarantee that he would stick with me. He was born, raised, and changed in London, and I doubted he would abandon his living family members to travel the world following vague visions of nothing with me. Helen raised my face with her index finger until I was looking at her, a confused and suspicious look on her face.

"Isabella," she started slowly, "you _are_ eighteen, aren't you?" I gave a half laugh and shook my head slowly.

"No. No, I'm not," I answered vaguely. The knowledge of my true age would put her in danger, but I knew Helen enough to guess that she would not accept that answer and move on.

"How old are you, then?" she asked, doing exactly what I thought she would. I shook my head again.

"Older than you think, and too old for the knowledge to be safe for you to have," I responded cryptically.

"People are looking for you, are they not? That is why you refuse to answer me," she guessed, not bothering to ask as she continued. I gave her a sad smile.

"People have been looking for me before I was born, Helen. They just did not know it was me they were looking for. Now they are getting close, so the less you know, the better off, and the safer, you will be. You know more than you should as it is," I explained, watching her sadness grow at what I revealed. We stood and I led her to the stairs, following her as she made her way up in case she lost her balance. She turned to face me again when we stopped in front of my door.

"I know you will not give me a straight answer, but I must ask anyway: What are you, Isabella?" Her face showed only pure curiosity, but I could not answer her, just as she expected.

"I am a person who is trying to do her best to help others without getting too close. It hurts me every time I lose someone close to me, but I cannot help myself," I answered, trying to look apologetic at the vagueness of my answer. She laughed softly and shook her head.

"Just as I expected," she responded, embracing me for a moment in farewell. "You will be leaving soon, won't you?" I nodded.

"I do not yet know when, but yes. I have been here for almost a decade, so it will soon be time for me to move on. I will do what I can to end the plague, and there is someone I need to check on, but I see myself leaving in the next few days," I explained, my voice soft as sadness overtook her again.

"Then this is goodbye and good luck. I really hope you are able to find someone you can spend your life with, but remember that you are never truly alone. Every single person you have touched will never be able to forget you, and you will be with them until the end of their days. Even after you have gone, I will still be praying for your health and happiness," she said as tears trailed down her cheeks. I gave her a sad smile and nodded once to make her happy.

"Okay, I will." She embraced me again and opened the door, closing it softly behind her. I leaned my forehead against the back of the door and sighed softly. I couldn't decide whether I had made a decision that would end me, or a decision that would end Helen and her unborn child. Either way, I knew nothing good could come of me telling my secret. I could only hope she was not the one to pay for it.

Turning around, I found Neera sitting only feet behind me, her bright gold eyes staring at me with an accusatory feeling. She looked like she was upset about something, and I could only assume it was my having to leave. I smiled sadly at her, and she came over and pressed her head against my ankle, pushing me towards the kitchen table. I let her move me and sat down just as a vision overtook me . . .

_A young woman, possibly only eighteen years old or so, stood before a small end table with her back to me. She was backlit by candles that I assumed were on the table in front of her, giving her body the look of being haloed. Her pitch black hair reached down to her waist, but something was wrong with it. The shine was missing, like her hair was dead. I was brought closer to her, and she was mumbling incoherently. I could hear something about _family_, _loss_, and something being _unfair_, but that was all I could make out. The closer I went, though, the more I could hear and understand._

" _. . . All gone . . . every one of them . . . gone . . . it is unfair . . . why me . . . why my family . . . lost everything . . . others have to feel . . . didn't deserve to die . . . must avenge them . . . others should have died . . ." she mumbled, making it obvious that she was upset about what sounded like her entire family's death. I was moved so that I was looking at her from the side, and gasped at what I saw on the table._

_It was covered in lit candles, and a pentagram was drawn with blood in a circle of lit black candles. She was waving around a bundle of smoldering herbs, smudging the air above the sign and humming a sickening tune that sent chills down my spine. The charm bracelet adorning her thin, bony wrists clinked softly as she moved her arms, the holy symbols representing each of the world's five major religions. Her necklace glinted brightly as the candle light hit it, a star sitting at the bottom of the crescent-shaped moon. Sitting on the table was a small burlap bag, only about the size of the palm of my hand, that I assumed held more herbs and some stones._

_She had put a spell on the people of England, bringing forth the disease that took her family. She was getting revenge on the survivors by bringing back their worst nightmare and killing them with it._

_As I got a look at her face, I realized something that saddened me further than the length she was willing to go to heal the pain the loss of her family caused: this girl was dying. Her face was gaunt and ghost-white, her eyes sunken in and dull with madness. She was emaciated to the degree that I did not understand how she was able to stand on her own. Her state explained why her hair had looked lifeless when I had first entered the vision._

"_I am dying . . . my family is dead . . . hmm mmh mmmm . . . if we are not allowed to live, then neither is anyone else. Everyone will die within the year, just like me," she whispered, putting down her smudge and leaning against the table's edge. "They will all die, just like they should."_

_I zoomed out from where she was standing, and the next thing I saw was the outside of a small, run-down cabin in the middle of nowhere. I could feel that it was many, many miles away, and I needed to be there to stop this girl from completing the last phase of her spell. If she finished, I would be able to do nothing to prevent the disease from spreading like it had twice in the past already. Most would die, but some would survive and be left to fend for themselves in the aftermath. I needed to arrive and stop her in exactly fifty days' time, or the majority of England would perish . . . but she was in the New World. I had to travel across the ocean and find her . . ._

I came out of the vision with a gasp, my gaze immediately finding Neera's as she sat on my lap. Her head was tilted to the side as she watched me with her wise eyes, and I gave her a small smile.  
"You know what is coming next, don't you, my smart girl?" I asked, and she pasted her little ears back against her head. I thought about what I could do with Neera and immediately thought of Helen.

"Neera, would you take care of Helen for me? Would you live with her and help her take care of her baby?" I asked, scratching her under her chin. She seemed to hesitate, but meowed in what I guessed was assent as her ears lifted again.

"When I set out tomorrow to the meadow, I want you to go to Helen, okay?" She lowered her head a little and meowed softly before jumping off my lap so I could pack.


	7. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6: Carlisle Cullen_

_A Meadow Outside of London's City Limits, 1663_

Hellfire burned through my veins, consuming everything I ever was in its blackness. I could see my memories burning like parchment before my mind's eye, fading into sight just to crumple and blacken until nothing but the darkness of the flames was left. I could no longer feel my body, my nerves fried beyond survival. I had no legs. I had no arms. I had no head. I had nothing but my mind. My soul. My conscience. My awareness. I was no longer Carlisle Cullen, the son of a pastor with dreams of becoming a doctor. I was a conscience floating in a dead body, unable to move or free myself from the confinement.

I was suddenly wrenched from the darkness and thrown back into the pool of black fire, feeling every searing touch of the dancing flames as they traveled through my entire body. Forever seemed to pass before I was agonizingly freed from my prison. The long, languid fingers of hellfire peeled back my flesh from the tips of my fingers and the bottoms of my feet to my chest before trying to rip my heart from its place in my body. I thought I cried out in pain, but the swirling ball of pure burning in my heart as it was ripped from my chest caused me to lose focus on anything else. My last heartbeat reverberated in my skull, bouncing around and giving me the hope that my heart was still beating, but my hope was quickly dashed as the sound faded away, leaving nothing but deafening silence in its wake.

My body shot up into a sitting position at the same time that my eyes snapped open, the world swimming around me. I blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the fog surrounding everything around me, and my head ached with the definition with which I was looking at my surroundings. I jumped to my feet and looked around in amazement, unable to comprehend what was going on.

I could see every little grain of pummeled stone in the abandoned warehouse's walls, every speck of dirt in the floor, and each dust particle floating in the air around me with such clarity that I could easily draw every minute detail without trouble. One of the gutters on the opposite side of the building was dripping with the drizzle that had started falling from the grumbling clouds above, and a stone was partially turned behind me.

Spinning on the balls of my feet, I instinctively crouched down and hissed loudly, mentally scaring myself with the sound. My body, though, did not have the same reaction. I stayed down in the defensive crouch, baring my teeth at the young man half hidden by a wall. I tried to relax myself, but my body wouldn't respond.

He only looked to be seventeen, maybe eighteen years of age, but his red eyes showed knowledge way beyond his ears. He was dressed in simple trousers and a blouse, his brown hair short and his features boyish, but with a touch of the man he would have been hiding behind them. He looked at me with concentration and wariness, like he was waiting for me to move before he decided what to do next. Just as I was about to speak, a blaze ignited in my throat, the sudden pain bringing me to my knees with my hand to my throat.

"You are thirsty," the young man said, coming out from behind the wall. I tried to hiss at him again, but the pain was too much. Nothing but a puff of air escaped my mouth.

"I will not hurt you. I am here to help," he continued, kneeling down just out of my reach. His face held a look of complete understanding. "Do you remember who you are? What happened to you?"

My mind immediately brought up images of my memories burning like parchment, curling in on themselves until not even the ashes were left. I felt my breathing increase with anxiety, but quickly squashed it and reversed the effects of the flames. The pictures I found were fuzzy, and most lacked dimension, but I could see what was happening in each one. I sorted through them, placing them in chronological order as I looked for the information the man was asking me for. When I found it, I audibly gasped and flung myself against the nearest wall, causing dust to fall from between the bricks with the impact.

"No . . ." I breathed, bringing my hands up so I could see them. Just as I feared, deathly pale skin glared back at me, mocking my new existence as the one thing I hated most. "No, no, no . . ." I repeated, flinching back when the young man reached out to me.

"Who are you?" he asked gently, once again sounding understanding.

"Carlisle. Carlisle Cullen," I answered, bringing my hands to my face. My features were sharp and defined, and my skin felt colder and harder even as it gave to the pressure from my fingers.

"And what happened to you, Carlisle Cullen?" he continued, kneeling down until he was able to look me in the eyes.

"All of those people . . . they all died, and I led them there . . . They died, and I was . . . changed," I choked, feeling the burn of tears, but no moisture.

"What were you changed into, Carlisle?" he pressed, putting a hand lightly on my shoulder.

"Vampire," I whispered. I suddenly brought my gaze to his, making him tense. "I can't be a vampire. I can't kill people. I won't kill people," I mumbled, dropping my eyes to my feet.

"You don't have to, Carlisle. I have not killed in quite some time," he responded, making me look up at him in surprise. Another wave of thirst crashed over me as I looked at his scarlet eyes and thought about the human lives looking back at me from the blood red rings.

"I did not kill those who have kept me alive," he said softly. "The woman who was with me in those tunnels . . . do you remember her?" I nodded slowly as her heart-shaped face formed in my mind. Her dark brown hair framed her soft features, but I could see a fierceness in her ancient gaze that belied the warrior she truly was.

"Isabella Swan . . . she called you Darrel," I answered, my voice distant as I took in Isabella's features. She had a face I knew I would never be able to forget, no matter how blurred and distorted my only memory of her was.

"Yes, I am Darrel, and her name is Isabella. She helped me learn to control my feedings so that the human survived. Our venom is not injected with every bite, like the humans so strongly believe. Venom is not injected when we are feeding, only when we are fighting or changing a human, so it is safe for us to feed on a human without draining them," he explained, seemingly happy with his achievement.

"I will not hurt innocents to keep myself alive," I mumbled, looking towards the broken warehouse windows. "I cannot, and I will not."

"Then what will you do?" Darrel asked, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head to the side in curiosity.

"I will not feed. As long as I have to take the life of a human being in order to survive, I will not feed," I answered with a finality that led him to shake his head. He mumbled something about my being stubborn, but I did not comment.

"As long as you are stuck on this notion, I may as well tell you about the meadow just outside of the city limits. If you are going to starve yourself to the brink of death, you might as well have pleasant scenery to stare at while you cannot move," he said, resigned.

"You are not going to attempt to convince me otherwise?" I asked, still looking out the window. Nothing of interest could be found but the darkening grey sky over the rest of London, but I continued to keep my gaze there anyway. Darrel sighed rather loudly, his true age reflected in the action.

"No I will not. I can see that you will not be swayed, and I respect your resolve. I see the man you were before your change in it. I cannot ask or force you to turn from that," he answered. I sighed softly and nodded once, standing straight and removing my back from the brick wall I had been leaning against. He backed up, and we walked across the warehouse and through the door in silence.

Darrel led me to the edge of the city, and his constantly moving gaze told me he was making sure I was not going to suddenly lose control and run rampant with newborn strength. I mentally scoffed at the idea. I had no desire to turn around and head into the city, and I had somehow managed to suppress the thirst to the point where it was only an uncomfortable scratching feeling. Darrel's body language as we walked betrayed his surprise at my control so early on, but he did not speak of it, so neither did I. When trees became more abundant, Darrel stopped and turned to face me.

"Head roughly two miles this way, and you will walk right into the meadow," he explained, pointing off into the forest. "A stream runs only yards away, if you ever feel the need for a change in scenery." I nodded once, and Darrel offered me his hand to shake. I took it and shook once, but he did not let go right away.

"Carlisle Cullen, I truly hope you give this life a second thought. I will not try to change your thoughts, but know that I wish you well." I nodded again and gave him a small, sad smile.

"And I you, Darrel. You have been a great help in bringing me back to myself and giving me much to think about," I said sincerely. He just returned my smile and dropped my hand.

"Goodbye and good luck, my friend."

"Goodbye." And with that, I made my way into the forest to find what would become my safe haven until the end of my days, whenever it should come.

I walked for only twenty minutes, using the time to think about everything that had happened and what was still to come. By the time I had thought through everything roiling around in my mind, I forgot what I had thought about. I was so distracted by the new sensations—really only my old sensations greatly enhanced by the vampirism—that I found myself unable to think back to only a few minutes earlier. I sighed and stopped, taking in the scenery around me with a sharp inhale.

I had unknowingly walked right into the middle of the clearing in my musing. The green grass waved gently as the breeze created by the nearby stream traveled with the running water. The sky overhead was quickly changing from bright, clear morning sky to an ominous black. The leaves on the trees surrounding the small area flipped over in the breeze, exposing their underbellies in warning of the incoming storm.

Sighing softly, I walked to the bank of the river and sat down, bringing my knees up to my chest and resting my arms across them as I watched the water flow by. Envy flashed through me for a moment, but my enhanced mind was able to have a conversation with myself and explore the reasons behind my feelings before it was gone. I felt as though I was sitting in the audience watching another Carlisle think about how the water had nothing to worry about but moving forward, how, even when something blocked its forward movement, the water easily and instinctively overcame the obstacle. Nothing stopped it. The stream knew what it had to do, where it was going, and nothing permanently changed its course.

I then realized the ridiculousness of envying water and cut off that train of thought. With a shake of my head, I lost myself to the hypnotizing swirls of the water, letting its movements wash away the events of the past few days. They did not matter, anyway. I would not be of this world much longer, if I had my way. I would not be the monster I had spent my human life protecting humans from just because I had the misfortune of being tricked by them. That wandering led me to another, the hypnosis freeing my mind from its surroundings.

Why had this happened to me? I was a child of God, just as any other Christian human was. What had I done so wrong that I deserved to live as a parasite, using the lives of those I had sworn to protect in order to keep myself alive? I read the Holy Bible. I attended church. I studied to someday become a preacher myself, even though I knew it was not what I wanted to do with my life. I had given up my dreams of becoming a doctor in order to protect people who could not recognize the danger they were in. I had been one of God's swords against the Devil's children, but now I _was_ one of the Devil's children, and all I could ask myself was . . . why?

I was so lost in my thoughts, in that _one single question_, that I did not hear the footsteps approaching me from the side. Springing into a crouch, I bared my teeth and hissed at the person standing ten feet down the bank. She smiled softly, sadly, as she sat down, tucking her feet under herself. Ancient brown eyes looked at me with understanding as a heart-shaped face graced itself with a sad smile, dark brown hair falling forward to frame the smooth features. The hands that had comforted and helped me at the beginning of my change lay folded in the lap that had held my head for a short time as agony engulfed my body. Her many skirts flowed out around her, concealing her secrets from prying eyes.

"Isabella," I breathed, sitting back on the ground as my defensive posture melted under her gaze. Her smile brightened a little as I recognized her, and she nodded once.

"Yes, Carlisle," she said, her voice sounding so otherworldly with my new hearing, like I was hearing it echo around me, embracing me in my time of need. "How are you feeling?" she asked, tilting her head slightly to one side. I looked at the ground brushing my fingers lightly against the strands of grass around me.

"Like I have become the monster I have been trained to hate and destroy . . . like everything I did earlier in my life means nothing now . . . like the God I gave up my dreams and gave my life to has turned His back on me . . ." I mumbled, keeping my eyes on the grass and not the beautiful young woman before me. She suddenly stood up and moved closer, and I looked up at her in surprise.

"I am very sorry for what I allowed to happen, Carlisle," she began, her voice once again lulling me into a sense of security. "I wanted so badly to stop the attack that led to your change, but like I told you in the tunnel, the world has something big planned for you, but you have to be a vampire and survive until the time comes for you to do whatever you have to. I do not understand it, nor do I like it." She paused for a moment, getting lost in her thoughts before speaking again, much more softly than she had before.

"I did not choose to be what I am . . . to do what has been demanded of me . . .but to turn my back from my task is to condemn innocents to suffering, destruction, and death. My happiness would mean nothing if I had to live knowing that I was selfish enough to value my own happiness over the _lives_ of others. I do not know what is planned for either of us in the end, or why it had to be us in the first place, but I know we must live on and get there in order to find out."

"What if I do not want to find out?" I asked, my voice barely audible as I thought out loud. She did not seem angered by my question, though.

"Then that is your choice," she responded softly. "I would hope that you give what I have said some thought, but I will not force you to change your mind." She paused again, tilting her head to the side as she looked up at the sky. "What if your God _hasn't_ turned His back on you, though? What if you have been changed into the one thing you despise because He knows you will be able to take this and make it into something you can use to help people? What if He knows you will be able to take this curse and change it into a gift? Maybe He thinks more of you than you do yourself, Mister Cullen." I thought about her words as she stood again, brushing the little pieces of grass from her skirts. Her head suddenly shot up and she looked straight ahead, her eyes quickly turning from brown to all white as black lines appeared in their centers.

They appeared as though someone were drawing them onto the surface of her eyes. One line moved from the upper right portion of her eye to the bottom center, while the other did the same from the left. They met in the middle, creating something that looked like an upside down triangle that was missing the top line, and the symbol glowed as it completed itself. I gasped and jumped back when her eyes suddenly changed back to brown, the white contracting back from the lines of the symbol as though it were opening her eyes. She gave me a happy, hopeful smile as she started backing away slowly.

"You think only one source of sustenance exists for what you are now, Carlisle Cullen, but this is not true. You are a smart man, so you know that all you need is blood. Where you get it does not matter as long as it is still blood. Think about it."

"Thank you, Isabella," I said softly, and she inclined her head towards me once before returning with a flourish of her skirts back into the forest.

_Helen . . . The Previous Night . . ._

As I walked from Isabella's home and returned to my own, I could not help but think of everything I had learned that night. I still loved her like my own blood, but I could not help but think of the secrets she had managed to hide from the rest of us for so long, and how well she had done so.

I put my hands on my lower back, trying to give my spine some extra support. I had been ready for this child to be born for quite some time now. My entire body hurt all the time, which was why I went to Isabella for her remedy. It worked wonders for me and allowed me to do what I had to without having to ask for help because of pain. I did not live too far from her, but it was far enough to make my back hurt.

When I finally reached my front door, I heaved a deep sigh of relief. My mother was on the other side with a small smile on her face. She was a petite woman, only about five feet tall, with jet black hair cut just above her shoulders. Her face was round and her features smooth, giving her the looks of someone much younger than her thirty-seven years.

"So how was Isabella?" she asked, steering me towards the kitchen to make my tea. My grandmother was there, as well, putting away the leftovers from supper like she shouldn't have been. Father was not home yet, and neither was Henry, my husband. She had the same small stature as my mother and me, but her once dark hair had gone white with age. I greeted her with a kiss to the cheek as my mother took the bottle of herbs from my hand.

"She is a very sad young woman, Mother. She holds herself as though the world is on her shoulders," I answered, slowly lowering myself into one of the kitchen chairs.

""Isn't it, though?" my grandmother said, her voice sounding much stronger than her frail body indicated. She joined me across the small table, folding her hands on top of it.

"Yes, I suppose it is," I mused, looking out the window but not seeing anything. "Have you seen anything else?"

"She is right about you having to leave," my mother said softly. "Both you and the baby will die of the plague if we do not leave soon." I slowly nodded my head, expecting as much. I looked to my mother, who had put the kettle on and was leaning against the counter.

"Are you sure she was the one great grandma Dolores was supposed to help? Are there not other Nephilim who survived a Lycan attack?" I asked, almost pleading with my mother to tell me I was right, that Isabella Swan was not the one for our family to follow.

"I wish I could say that were true, Helen, but you know I would be lying. Your great grandmother had a vision of a pure white swan weeping as the world burned around it, and from everything that has happened to Isabella, I have no doubt that she is the one," Mother explained, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at the floor in regret.

"Then we need to make sure to keep an eye on her. Do we know where we are off to next?" I asked with a sigh. I really liked Isabella, and the future the three of us had seen for her if we left her alone was not something I would wish on even my most hated enemy. It was a long, rough road, full of despair and death.

None of u+s knew why we had visions of Isabella and her immediate future, so we decided that our family would follow her until we did. We had journals that documented our travels and what we witnessed with Isabella. We befriended her, doing as much as we could to make her feel as though she was not alone in her fight even though we could not actually help her in it. My grandmother had seen only one vision of Isabella in the far future, and she had been that lonely, broken swan my great grandmother had seen. We were only human, so we did what humans seemed to do best: make friends.

"We are off to the New World, Helen. We need to start packing. We leave tomorrow night."

**Quick Author's Note: For those of you whose stories are lacking reviews, a forum has been set up by Twilightfannaticforever where you can post summaries and links to your stories for others to read and review, and for you to do the same for others, if possible. You can also post if you would like advice on a story or are looking for a beta. It is called Twilight Stories Review Swaps, so check it out if you think you are interested. I am a moderator, so I will make sure to comment or assist in any way I can. I may not be able to review every chapter of every story advertised, but I will do what I can.**

forum/twilight_stories_review_swaps/112759/

**~Angels of Twilight**


	8. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7: 1663_

_50 Days Later . . . Charleston, Carolina, America_

The trade ship landed on the shore of what was to become the Carolina colony under the British crown, and the city Charlestown, from the name of the generous king who granted the charter, Charles II. Some had already settled in the northern portion of the land given to the eight Lord Proprietors, creating homes and loves for themselves, but that was about to change as the new rulers of the land stepped foot on the shore.

This did not matter to me. I was not here to stay; I had a mission, and I would be here only as long as it took for me to finish it. I had started getting worried that I would not make it in time to stop the young girl, especially when the ship sailed right into the heart of a strong storm. One of the larger masts had ripped right down the middle, greatly slowing us down, but we pulled into shore on the exact day I had to find and stop her.

I mentally drew invisibility rune in my mind, closing my eyes so that no one passing by would see the sign drawing itself on them, and opened them again when I felt the familiar brush of power over my skin. No one would be able to see me now, but I would have to be careful not to touch anyone. The last rumor I wanted to start was a haunting of some sort.

As soon as the cargo door opened above me, I let the man down before rushing as fast as I could up the ladder and onto the deck. Running across to the gang plank, I got off the boat and headed straight into the forest. I could almost feel my time slipping by, coming closer and closer to the point when she would finally finish her spell. From what I saw of the house, it would be in the forest somewhere, most likely a long-abandoned cabin from one of the families now settled in the growing city.

I stood behind one of the larger trees and stared out into the forest, opening myself up to any source of magic around me. Some was always floating around, residual magic from past spells, hexes, curses, or anything else of that sort. It did nothing but float around until enough of it gathered in one area, but the effect of that was always different. The Nephilim could do nothing but damage control after whatever happened.

What I was feeling for was something different than free-floating magic. I was trying to find a source radiating magic as a spell grew and gathered itself together. My eyes showed me the floating greens and blues like fog that signaled the residual, but the pulsing red and orange showed me the curse. The anger found in the colors came from the emotions of the person performing the spell, as well as the intended goal of the magic, hence the black slowly growing around the outside of the other two colors.

I ran as fast as I could in that direction, pointing myself the right way before blinking my vision back to normal so that I could see where I was going. I cursed my long, heavy skirts as they snagged on the branches and brush, thinking to myself that I should have changed into the blouse and trousers in my bag.

The small cabin I found after a few minutes of travel was the same run-down structure I had seen in my vision. Logs were rotting away, leaving holes leading right into the house. Most of the windows were completely broken, and those that were not were so cracked that one could not see through them and into the house. Shutters once elegant hung from their fastenings like fallen guards, no longer able to protect the inhabitants from the prying eyes of the outside world. Vines were slowly reclaiming the structure in the name of the Mother, gripping tightly to what was once hers to begin with. The door was nowhere to be found as I approached, slowing my pace to an almost silent walk. I soon found the molded piece of wood laying in the bushes lining the house.

I smelled the scent of incense and candles, drawing my mind from the state of the cabin and back to the matter at hand. Approaching the door from the side, I felt around in my pockets for my stele and a seraph blade. The presence of their solid forms caused a silent but deep sigh of relief. I had more weapons in my bag, but these were more easily accessible if this situation came to a fight.

I entered the front of the house without my invisibility rune, knowing that surprising a person as unstable as this girl seemed to be would only make the situation worse. I could hear her murmuring nonsense in a room off to my right and headed in that direction, the soft glow of the candles helping to show me the way. The scene I walked in on was the same as that from my vision, but I did not take the time to look around; I had already seen it.

I placed my hand lightly on the side of the table, situating myself to the young girl's right side. She did not seem to realize I was there, so I reached for one of her candles in an attempt to get her attention. It worked slightly better than I hoped.

She smacked my hand away with one of her own, using the other to slam me in the chest and force me backwards. I caught myself on the corner of the table before I fell over, and I straightened to find her threatening me with a small, thin athame. The sharp blade gleamed at me, reflecting the candle flames. It looked to be just one foot long with a black handle and a circled pentagram with crescent moons on either side decorating the hilt. My hand flinched towards where my seraph blade was hidden, but I did not grab it. I did not want to fight this girl, and drawing my blade would only spur that action on.

"I'm not here to hurt you," I whispered, trying not to startle her. I wanted her to talk so that I could try to convince her to put the blade down, but I was going to take this a step at a time to ensure neither of us was hurt.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she asked, her voice hoarse. Her dull brown eyes were wild with madness and despair, increasing the sadness and pity I already felt towards this girl.

"My name is Isabella. Can you tell me your name?" I asked gently, putting a hand to my chest as I introduced myself. She roughly shook her head.

"Matters not . . . Why are you here?" she snapped, gesturing around the room with the athame. I ignored the weapon's movement, but was not foolish enough to forget it was there as I focused solely on getting her to talk to me.

"I was walking through the woods and found this house. I saw the light from your candles and wanted to see if anyone was here. What are you doing?" I answered, hoping my question had not been asked too soon. Unfortunately, it had.

"It's nothing that concerns you!" she yelled while brandishing the athame at me. I raised my hands up in a defensive manner, but she had already been distracted by something else. She abruptly turned back to the table and grabbed a large tomb from the shelves to her left. Setting it on the table, she opened it about half way and started grabbing different bottles and plants from around her as she read.

"What is your name?" I asked again, trying to distract her from whatever she was doing. She glanced at me and murmured "Matilda" softly. I sighed at the progress and pushed further.

"Why are you so sad, Matilda? What has made you so upset?" Her hands paused their frantic movement, and she tightly closed her eyes. Her breathing was ragged and shallow as her fingers curled into tight fists, and she started mumbling as she had in my vision.

"All dead . . . left me alone . . . gone forever . . . didn't deserve death . . . why them? Why _us_? _Why_?" she yelled. Her voice had gained volume as she continued to speak, and her hands went back to unconsciously gathering the different components she needed to complete her curse.

"You do not need to do this, Matilda," I whispered urgently, giving up my façade of ignorance.

"You do not know what it is I am doing," she retorted with a snarl. I sighed softly and slowly took her wrists in my hands, making sure she could not reach for the athame where she had set it.

"I know that you lost all of your family to the Black Death. I know you feel their deaths were unwarranted and unjust. I know you feel that the survivors should die as well, as your family did. I know you are trying to place a curse of pestilence on England in order to kill the remaining survivors. I know you are sad . . . lonely . . . angry . . . scared. I know that I came here because I saw what you were going to do. I know that I am here to stop you . . . to somehow ease the pain that has taken over your mind. I know that your emotions have affected your magic, and now that magic is overpowering you."

She looked at me with such despair and anguish that I could not help the flooding of my eyes with burning tears. Her red, crying eyes were pleading with me to help her, to stop her, to stop the pain. Her emotions and her magic had driven her to the brink of insanity, and this curse was a display of her mind crossing and crossing again the line separating the sane from the insane. As I looked into her eyes, past the tears flooding over in torrents, I could almost see her magic swirling and writhing inside her body. My heart hurt at the realization that she was way beyond my help. At this point, her magic would counteract anything I did to try to help her, and it would only cause her more pain.

"I don't know how to stop it," she whispered, her eyes becoming unfocused. "But sometimes . . . I don't want to . . . No one wanted to help me . . . They left me to survive by myself . . . I asked for help, even from the ones like you because of my magic . . . the ones in the town . . . but they wouldn't help. They told me they couldn't. But I know. I know they just didn't want to. I wasn't one of them, so they left me to handle everything by myself," she sobbed, and I moved my grip from her wrists to her shoulders so I could embrace her.

"I don't know what to do anymore," she continued, her voice muffled by my shirt. "I don't know if I want to do anything . . . I _don't_ want to do anything . . ."

"I know you don't . . . you've had to do more than enough," I whispered in response, putting a hand to the back of her head as tears started falling down my own cheeks. "You've done enough."

"Please help me . . . it hurts so much . . . so much" she repeated, gripping my shirt tightly in her fists. I didn't have to ask what hurt. I knew.

Her magic was eating her from the inside out, trying to free itself from the confines of her body because she had lost control of it. Its only outlet was in controlling her body, but magic was truly meant to be free. Every time a magic-wielding being was born, the magic was taken from the world around the child and controlled subconsciously by the mind. When the being died, the magic was released into the world once more. This unharnessed magic would continue eating away at her until it was free once more.

"Shh . . . I'm going to help you, Matilda. You have nothing to worry about anymore," I whispered as tears threatened to choke me. I reached down with the hand that wasn't holding the young, broken girl's head to my chest and silently slipped the seraph blade from its pocket in my skirts.

"_Suriel_ . . ." I whispered, watching the blade glow and grow in my hands.

Suriel was the most appropriate angel for me to call on at that moment; he was the angel of healing, wisdom, and death. Matilda's young soul was broken beyond my or any other earthly being's help. She needed the knowledge that what happened to her family was not her fault, that she did not need to fight for them. She needed a light to show her the way back to her family.

I started humming softly into her ear as I watched my hand line up the weapon at her back. My voice wavered with pent-up emotion while my hand held steady and sure. I knew there was no other way, and before I could stop myself, I plunged the blade straight through her heart. As her grip on me started to relax, I reached around and pulled her into my lap. I could hear her whimpering in pain, but she did not struggle. Her magic visibly released itself from her body, drifting up and into the air before dissipating back to where it belonged.

I continued humming until she released her last breath, finally allowing all of my emotions to pour out of me. The front of my dress was soaked with tears after only a few minutes, but I didn't stop. I started crying because of what happened to Matilda because of the carelessness of others, as well as what I had to do to her to finally ease her pain. But I knew, somewhere deep inside of me, that I was not only crying about Matilda's fate.

I was crying for me.

For what happened to me . . . for what I've had to endure . . . for what I still had to endure . . . for what I had to leave behind . . . for what I would never have . . . for what was expected of me . . . I was just crying . . . crying for anything and everything. I hadn't allowed myself to show emotion like this since the day I learned of the prophecy from Dolores more than one hundred and fifty years ago . . . the prophecy that told the world I would save them. "_She will be the savior of Nephilim, supernatural, and human alike. The one and only of her kind. Angel and demon. Light and dark. Good and evil. The daughter of Abaddon, Angel of Destruction, will save us all, but first, she must find those who will save her."_ That's what Dolores told me, and I had laughed. The gods had a sick and twisted sense of humor, making Destruction's daughter the savior of what amounted to all of mankind. And what was that at the end? _But first she must find those who will save her_. And by that, they meant _what_ exactly? Everyone I had met either was killing people and so was killed by me, or they pretended to be on my side and then tried to use me for their own gain. None of them had saved me . . . except for Darrel. He had saved me in the tunnels, but I had saved him before then, taking him out of the "Save me, save them" equation.

I continued crying for almost an hour before I was finally able to get a hold of myself. I extricated myself from Matilda's body and grabbed the seraph blade, thanking Suriel and freeing his power from the weapon. It shrank down to its original size and I slipped it back into my skirts after wiping it off on a cloth from the table. I gazed piteously down at the young girl laying before me.

_We are not all that different, you and I_, I thought to myself as I knelt down and placed both of her hands on her chest. I could not help but think that she had probably not looked as peaceful as she did in that moment since her family members started dying around her. That in itself was a shame . . . a waste of what could have been a beautiful existence, had it been given the chance to blossom and flourish.

I laid the still burning candles on the floor around Matilda's body and places books right next to the flames. Seeing a glint from the corner of my eye, I noticed the charm bracelet still adorning her skinny wrists, as well as the necklace around her neck. I gently unhooked the clasps and gripped the jewelry tightly in my hand, turning swiftly from her peaceful features and rushing out the front doorway as the books caught fire. The dried out floorboards quickly followed suit, and I watched the structure burn from outside.

The fire quickly consumed the cabin, burning everything inside it to ashes. I thought it would be most appropriate, to burn Matilda's old life and allow Mother Nature to bring the body of her child back to her bosom where the girl could rejoin the family she had lost too soon. As I hooked the jewelry on my own body to remind myself of this day's events, I promised myself that I would never allow my emotions to let loose again. It just hurt too much. I would never forget, but I would bottle up my emotions, reign them in so that they could not add to the pain the world constantly caused me.

I wiped one last stray tear from my chin as I turned my back on the ashes marking where the abandoned cabin once stood, asking the gods to send me a sign that what I was living through was really worth the pain and anguish . . . not only mine, but that of the people have helped or failed to because they had to be injured in some way for some unknown but unquestioned reason. I did not have to wait long.

A small, almost inaudible chirp sounded from the ashes of the house. I turned around quickly in response, and walked slowly up to the remains. At first, I saw nothing in the charred remnants, but a small section right by my feet started moving as I went to turn away again. I knelt down and lightly brushed away the top layer of ash and could not stop the smile that immediately grew on my face.

"Hello, there, little one."


	9. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8: Carlisle Cullen_

_Place: Volterra, Italy, 1692_

"Why is it that none of my guard are competent enough to find one measly Nephilim?" Aro snarled, his long, jet black hair whipping around him every time he turned in his pacing. His anger seemed out of place coming from such a debilitated form. His skin looked paper-thin and his body as though a relatively strong breeze would push him over. None of these descriptions about the thousand-year-old vampire were correct. He had no qualms about killing others of our kind, and even though he would rather have someone else do the deed to keep him from getting his hands dirty, he had killed many a strong vampire. So had his fellow rulers, Caius and Marcus, who looked much the same as him except for the color of their hair. "I told them exactly what she looks like, exactly where she's been, _and_ what powers she has so they may inquire about her, and they still have failed."

When I had first met Aro and his brothers almost twenty years ago, Aro had been just as obsessed with this girl as he sounded now. I had come to Volterra in search of some sort of direction, t find some meaning for my life. I despised what I was so greatly that I had actually tried to take my own life. Isabella's words rang through my head with every attempt, and every attempt failed. Even starvation had not brought me the relief I so desperately wanted, and I had restrained myself from feeding for over one year. I finally lost control when a large herd of deer passed too close, the pumping of their hearts and the _glub dub_ of blood moving through their veins erasing any and all thought of the sound's source. Each and every animal had been completely drained by the time I was able to regain control over myself once more, and I realized with a start what Isabella had been hinting at all along. She knew I was going to discover an alternative food source for our kind, which was why she had told me to rethink my feelings about what I was, why she was so confident about us meeting again.

She knew.

"_Earthen hair and eyes bright_

_With knowledge and life's shining light._

_Only the gentle breeze knows her secret_

_And will always and forever keep it._

_In the shadows of life she stays,_

_And for the world she prays,_

_Until the day it turns_

_And sets its sights on her._

_A single noose around her neck,_

_And she is no longer at their call and beck._

_They hang their savior and drown her son_

_For seeing a witch where there was none._

_Destruction's daughter will help no more_

_To keep the race from Death's door."_

Aro recited the prophecy he would have known by heart, had he been human. He still knew every word and punctuation mark, but the feat was much less remarkable with his status as a vampire with an infinite memory. He found it in a vampire's memory years before, and had been searching for the girl ever since. All of us present in the throne room knew the girl was Isabella Swan, the same girl who had seen me to the point of my change and helped me realize my role in this life. Aro knew because this same girl was described in another prophecy about a young girl losing her family to a Lycan attack and being changed into a Nephilim-Lycan hybrid. Neither told whether or not she knew that her enhanced abilities came from her status as such, but her power and species were what bred and fed Aro's desire to have and control her. Her lineage as a daughter of Abbadon, the Fallen angel of destruction, only exacerbated this desire.

Aro made sure to tell me the story in detail, about how a group of God's angels started lusting after human women and impregnated them, creating the first Nephilim. These children were stronger and faster than their human counterparts, and they discovered these symbols that they could draw on their skin to enhance their already improved abilities, but they only lasted for a period of time. They later found out that they could give themselves other abilities, as well. Having this kind of power under his control would have made Aro the happiest person—dead or alive—in existence.

"I described her straight from you memories. I do not understand!" Aro yelled, throwing his hands into the air.

He was correct, though. Aro had made sure to shake my hand before I found out about his powers, and found the same girl he had seen in the minds of others in mine. From all of the memories he had seen, he was certain of the girl's identity, as well as where she had been, but was clueless as to where she was now or where she was headed, something I was intensely but quietly pleased about. I did not want Aro to find Isabella, and I went out of my way to hide anything I could from him without him finding out. The guard members scouting for her had told me of some of the girls they had found but did not capture, and I assured them that she was not Isabella. I did not know for sure either way, but I took no chances. It was the least I could do for her.

"We will find her eventually, Aro," Caius said impatiently, his attention on this topic long-since expired. He was unwilling to spend too much of his precious time on one task, while Marcus was unwilling to focus on the world at all. His wife—and Aro's blood sister Didyme—had been murdered a few centuries ago, and the loss of his mate had left the vampire an empty shell, living out his existence by letting the world go by without him. He only included his thoughts or opinions when he was directly asked for them, not that he gave much to a conversation or decision when he did.

"I do not wish to find her _eventually_, Caius. I want to find her _now_. With that kind of power in the guard, no one would dare challenge us," Aro mumbled with a sadistic glint in his eye.

"No one does now," his brother responded lazily, turning his head towards one of the stained glass windows in the throne room, and Aro glared without offering a rebuttal.

"We do not know of the events the prophecy mentions, do we?" I asked, and Aro shook his head slowly.

"Unfortunately, it does not, but it would not be a prophecy if it was difficult to understand," he finished sarcastically. Caius huffed his agreement, and Marcus kept his unfocused gaze towards the wall. I sighed softly, frustrated with Aro's determination.

I had been at the castle for a few years now, and Aro was constantly trying to either tempt or trick me into drinking human blood. I had held to my diet of animal blood since I discovered it, and my resolve to keep it only grew every time he tried to get me to change. Between that and his attempts to find Isabella, I was growing tired of my companions. I only came to learn what I could about human medicine, and I had done that some time ago. I had yet to practice, seeing as though I was still a very young vampire and did not want to take an unnecessary chance, but I was using my newborn years to compile any and all knowledge I could possibly need for when I finally did.

"The only clue seems to be putting the rope around her neck. Hanging does not happen often, but I have heard rumors of humans using this technique to reveal witches, or those they believe are witches," I mused, not believing the information would be beneficial to them in any way.

"Ah, yes. I have heard of that, as well," Caius responded, sitting up straighter in his seat at the change in topic. "They use techniques that would kill a fellow human being in order to discover who is or is not a witch after they have been accused and tried in a . . . court of law, or something similar to such. Those who die from the chosen method are dubbed human, and those who survive are witches. In essence, seeing as though I have heard of no true witches being caught by these fools, they are accusing each other out of fear and killing their innocent neighbors while the guilty stand among them. It is quite entertaining, really." Caius reveled in the pain and destruction of others, something that drove a wedge between the two of us and caused us to be at odds about many of the Volturi's tactics. I could not help but nod in agreement, though. What he said was unfortunately true, except for the part about the entertainment value. Humans saw things they did not understand, and in their fear, would place the blame for the event on one of their own. Killing that person seemed to give them the feeling that, since the person was gone, the event would not happen again and their lives would go back to being normal and easily explained. A shame, really. I made my way over to one of the windows and stared at the intricate brush strokes making up the painting on the glass. The room was silent but for Aro's pacing before he broke it again.

"You tire of this place, my friend," he said softly, sounding much softer and more caring than he ever had. I sighed and looked to the floor.

"I believe so, Aro," I admitted in a whisper. "I came to gain knowledge, not to help make decisions that affected the vampire world. I have gained what I came here for, and now I am beginning to feel as though I need to move on. I do not belong here, at least not right now. Something is waiting for me, and I need to find it."

"We are not holding you here, Carlisle," Aro responded, taking steps towards me. "I know I am not always the most understanding of vampires," Caius scoffed, interrupting Aro, who ignored him with a roll of his eyes, "_but_ I do understand what you feel now. You are only a few years into this life. Being tied down in one place will not feel right to you, not until you have seen and lived more. I only hope you will visit from time to time." I looked at him in shock, which quickly turned to thanks.

"I will be sure to, my friend."

**BPOV**

Another cabin. Another town. Another life. Another name.

Irene Swan of Salem, Massachusetts. Daughter of healer Isabella Swan from Carolina. That was my new name. I lived in small log cabin on the fringes of the town, running a little medicine shop from the front room. The others made up what I was calling home at this moment. Nothing felt like home anymore, though. I had nothing keeping me in one place long enough for me to take the effort to make somewhere feel like home.

Hermes was all I had and all I needed. He followed me wherever I went, even when I told him not to, and kept me safe when I took my nighttime strolls to clear my head when my day was rough. He snuggled up with me in bed and kept me warm, and he sang to me when I had a nightmare or couldn't fall asleep. He was soft, both in body and in soul, and listened when I had to just talk my feelings right out of me.

I found him the day the cabin in Carolina burned down. His little feathered head popped up out of the ashes, and he chirped at me when I picked him up. When I finally managed to get all of the ash off of him, bright red and gold feathers gleamed back at me. His little eyes were a soft, burnished gold, and his beak was light brown, almost like an ivory color.

The little phoenix was my message . . . my message that everything would be worth it in the end . . . to keep going because something better was coming, even if it was year or centuries away. I had asked for a message, a sign of some kind, and I had received one. Not only that, I had received a friend I would not grow close to and lose to the hands of Death. Hermes would live for five hundred years before the chance of him dying started to grow, and three days after his death, he would be reborn once more. He would essentially live forever, just like me. With him, I wouldn't be alone anymore.

"Irene? Hello? Are you listening to me?" Joan said from the chair next to mine. She was the only human I had allowed myself to get close to in town. I did not need her friendship, nor did I want it, but having someone who knew me at least a little helped me to blend in. Fewer questions could be asked—and answers to them imagined—if someone was around to clear up confusion and curiosity.

"I'm sorry, I got lost in thought," I answered with a small, sad smile. She reached over and patted my hands, which were folded on the table in front of me.

"Oh, are you thinking about your family again?" she asked, and I just looked away and nodded once. As far as everyone in town knew, I had lost my entire family to a raid by the natives. This was not a complete lie, seeing as though the Lycan had been living in the forests surrounding my home village for decades before even my parents were born. Today also happened to be the day I told everyone they had died. New Year's Eve.

"Honey, everything will be okay," she crooned, removing herself from her chair and wrapping her arms around my shoulders. "I know it has been hard for you, but I'm here if you ever need to talk."

"I know, and please know that I greatly appreciate it. I just cannot think about what happened, let alone talk about how it makes me feel. I just . . . I do not know what I am going to do now," I answered, playing into the role I had perfected. All I had to do was focus on the feelings I had had right after the attack and my story became believable. All of my moving around had provided me with plenty of practice.

"You have your practice here, Irene. Focus on this. Focus on what your mother and father built and keep it going. Be successful in what your family built before they were taken from you," she said, sitting back down and keeping her hands on my shoulders. I nodded in response, acting as though I did not trust myself to speak.

Joan embraced me once more before deciding it was time for her to go home. She did not like to walk home when the light was beginning to dim, and her husband would not be happy if he discovered her doing so. She was one of the only women allowed to roam from house to house without a male escort. I was another, but that was only because I was an adult and had no male guardian to make that decision.

"You will come to me if you need someone to talk to, won't you?" she asked, just as a group of men, both young and old, jogged by my house and into the forest beyond. They were all Nephilim, which piqued my interest, but Joan only saw men going to train in the waning light. If she had truly seen their faces, she would have noticed the serious, anxious looks they wore, hinting at something more than training calling them into the darkness.

"Yes, of course I will," I said, both of us still watching the disappearing forms, only the glint from their bayonets waving farewell.

As we hugged goodbye, I closed my door and watched as Joan made her way home, waiting until she was around the corner before following the group of Nephilim. I activated my precognition rune, drawing the symbol in my mind, and felt my eyes turn opaque white with a vision.

I saw nothing but bloodshed as I looked between the trees growing closely in the forest. A battle had been fought and won, but I could not tell by which side with the number of fallen. From the scorch marks on the trees and bodies, as well as the heavy fog of residual magic, my guess was a coven of witches had come to take back land they felt robbed of. Any Nephilim looking, _truly_ looking, at the land around them could see the prints left by the true caretakers of the land the colony had been founded on, and I saw every sign of witches. These were not the white witches found farther west, those who would rather negotiate so that both sides were content. No, these were the witches that would immediately begin formulating a plan to win back what had been stolen from them. These were the dark witches, the ones that enjoyed causing pain and suffering.

I started running as soon as I saw that I would not make it to the scene of the battle in time to stop the death. The Nephilim would be dead, and the witches who survive would already be gone. They will not have expected such a fight and leave to regroup, but in the end, they would decide against another attack. They would lose too many in the first.

Reaching the scene of the carnage, I ignored the bodies spread out around me and drew the rune for enhanced hearing, a thin oval with one dot in the middle. I felt the power surge through me and pool in my head, bringing every sound in the forest to my ears. Nothing but a deafening silence came to me . . . except a single heartbeat. A single heartbeat coming from a young boy, maybe fourteen, towards the outskirts of the battlefield.

I ran over to him, falling to my knees and immediately checking him for injuries. He had a nasty burn across his torso from a just-missed curse and a slash across his left bicep. He still had round, boyish features, but they were drained of any and all color. His light brown hair was matted with dirt and blood from a scratch at his hairline that I noticed as I was examining him. His breathing was shallow and quick, alerting me to the high level of pain he was in. Putting my hand on the side of his face, I tried to rouse him enough to let him know what was going on.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" I asked, my breathing increasing as I tried to find my stele. I needed to see if I could heal him at least a little before I tried to move him anywhere. "My name is . . . Isabella. I'm here to help," I told him, getting a small, quiet whimper in return.

"I need to draw the healing rune on you, okay? You are going to feel a little burning, but it'll help. I need to get you back to my house to help you more," I explained, and he only groaned in response. As I began drawing the symbol, I couldn't help but scream at myself. So much for not getting close . . .


	10. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9: 1692_

_Place: Salem, Massachusetts_

I managed to finish the rune just before I heard a group of male voices approaching from the town. Activating my precognition rune, I looked into the near future and saw the men bringing the young boy to my door for healing. I cleared my vision with a blink before looking down at the boy, who had been watching me with pain-filled eyes. I put my hand to the side of his face, giving him a small smile.

"I have done what I can here. Humans from the town are coming to investigate what happened, and they are going to bring you to my home for treatment. I am the healer of the town," I explained to him quickly. "I must go now, before they see me. I will see you soon." He grunted in pain, and I activated my invisibility rune, using it to watch the group as they stumbled upon the carnage.

"Search for survivors!" someone shouted, and everyone spread out to check the bodies. I heard mumbles of "how could this happen" and "what could have caused such destruction" as I carefully walked around the men and out of the circle. I heard a whispered "witch" just as I broke into a run and went straight home. My presence would have brought up questions, like why I was out so late by myself and why I was in the middle of the woods, and I did not want any extra attention drawn to myself.

As I expected, they came running to my door with the boy. I had half-prepared my burn salve while I waited, trying to shorten the time I would use in helping him but not so much that they would grow suspicious of why I had it prepared already.

"Miss," said the man leading the group. He, like the rest of the group, was covered in dirt and blood. "I apologize for calling on you so late, but an attack has occurred in the forest. A large group of our men have been killed." He turned slightly and waved someone else forward. "This young man is the only survivor, but he is severely burned and scratched. Can you take him in? At least for the night?" he asked, and I nodded once.

"Of course. I will keep him here until I deem him healthy again," I responded. "Place him in the guest room. He needs to be comfortable with a wound like that." The man holding the boy nodded once and I directed him to the spare room as the others waited outside. We came back once he was settled under a light sheet and sleeping soundly.

"He has not woken since we found him," the leader commented, and I nodded.

"He is most likely in shock from the injuries. I will do what I can for him. Come back in a few days if you want to check on him, and hopefully I will be able to learn his name in the meantime," I said quietly.

"Goodnight then, Ma'am, and good luck," he said with a tilt of his head. I curtsied before closing the door and locking it behind me.

Making my way into my shop, I grabbed the small mortar with my salve and put the finishing touches on it. I was focusing mostly on lessening his pain, seeing as though a curse burn would not heal easily only being treated topically if the healing rune barely worked, and I knew I could numb him so that he could at least rest without being in constant pain. Something needed to be applied before he woke up and agitated the wounds, and this was his best chance.

I walked into the spare bedroom with the mortar, opening the door as quietly as I could. He was still unconscious, that much I expected, but the less noise I made, the less likely he would be to wake up too early. We had laid him down on his back with his arms at his sides and draped a light sheet over him to keep at least some of the chill away. I could still see him shaking from shock and blood loss, which worried me.

"Hermes," I whispered, and he appeared on the dresser with a soft, quiet flare of fire. He chirped quietly, tilting his head at me.

"My friend, will you stay with this boy through the night? I need to keep him warm, but I cannot cover him too much with the injuries he has sustained. Will you do that for me?" I asked, and he squawked as he dropped his head in agreement.

I smiled as I sat down on the edge of the bed, setting the small mortar on the bedside table. I brought a hand up to the boy's hair, lifting the light brown strands hanging down over his forehead to examine the cut on his head. It had just about stopped bleeding, but his face was a mess from the blood falling down his face and into his hair. Quickly grabbing a wash basin from the bathroom, I used a damp cloth to clean the blood from his face and the wound. The cut was shrinking as I cleaned it, showing me that it was not from a spell. The rune was still working slowly from the size of the curse-inflicted burn, but that and the gash on his arm were slowly but surely healing.

I continued cleaning the blood from his hair and arm while Hermes stood on the other bedside table, watching intently. He was glowing gently as he gave off heat, warming the room to a comfortable temperature that would not make the boy too hot. I took a small amount of the salve and smeared it over the cut on his head, and then did the same to the wound on his arm. He started sweating when I pulled the sheet back and used a small blade to removed the charred remnants of his shirt. Most of the front had burned, and some of the pieces stuck to his skin.

The burn looked no better than it had on the forest. The skin was blistered and discolored in the middle, and the ragged edges of the burn were an angry red. His torso bruised from the impact of the curse, telling me that whoever had cast it was very powerful. A witch casting that kind of spell with such power without the experience needed to control to would have destroyed the entire clearing, not just hit one boy.

I lost myself in that train of thought as I gently and carefully cleaned what I could from the burn. The person in the bed before me was no more a man than I was human, and yet, he had been called a man and deemed able to fight. The Nephilim trained their children for combat early, but very rarely was a child called into a fight such as the one that had taken place. All of the other men in the group who had fallen in battle were most certainly over eighteen years of age. This boy was no older than fifteen. He was still a child in both the human and supernatural worlds, but he was still brought to a fight beyond his capabilities. The blatant lack of care for the child's safety was sickening and made me ashamed to call myself Nephilim.

All of a sudden, the boy flinched and groaned in pain, stirring from his sleep as his body grew warmer and warmer. He was whining in pain as I replaced the water and cloth, grabbing fresh of both and draping the cloth across his forehead. His breathing was increasing, but it was still shallow. I quickly applied a generous amount of salve to his burn, concentrating on what I was doing and not his flinching and cries of pain. I kept telling myself it would help, but the sounds he made caused me to second-guess myself. Finally finished, I took his hand in both of mine and held it. To wrap his wound would only cause him more pain, so I decided against it.

He mumbled and groaned all night long, whimpering in pain when he was not. I stayed with him, dozing off every now and then until he started making noise again. I talked him through the pain until he fell asleep again, telling him about some of the places I had been and the things I had seen. His quick silence at the sound of my voice and increased pressure from my hands encouraged me, making me think he could hear what I was saying, and I found myself telling him everything from the attack on my village by the Lycan up to the moment I found him. The sun was rising on another new day by the time I finished and fell asleep myself, still sitting up.

My dreams were strange. I had had visions while I was asleep, but this was different. I could see a group of people, but I could only see their silhouettes. Seven of them were standing there facing me. All of a sudden, Helen Jameson's face appeared on the smallest figure's face. It slowly morphed into someone else, a young woman with long black hair down to her waist who looked to be just five feet tall. She was only wearing a plain, pure white dress that ended just below her knees. The figures next to her stayed just as black as they had been before.

Carlisle Cullen's face suddenly appeared, just as Helen's had, and moved to occupy one of the other silhouettes. The face of the young boy did the same, shooting over to the largest of the figures and shifting to that of a young man with dark brown hair and a large smile. Dimples adorned his face on either side of his mouth, a stark contrast to the impression his rather large build gave off. His trousers were a strange blue color, but I could not identify the material. I had seen nothing like it, but his shirt was cotton and short-sleeved. Another figure started to glow, but the changes the others went through did not happen with this one. The numbers one, eight, six, and three appeared across the group, followed closely by the name "Galveston" and "0300."

The scene suddenly changed, switching to what appeared to be a war. Another young man, his hair hidden by a light grey cap and his body in a matching shirt and trousers, was fighting off another young man, this one in a similar uniform in dark blue. The man in blue parried an attack by the grey man, using the large knife at the end of his rifle to stab his opponent through the chest. The grey man fell to his knees, dropping his own rifle to the ground and raising a hand to the wound, where the other soldier's knife still stuck out. He drew his hand back to find it covered in crimson blood, the same color coming from his mouth as he began coughing. The other man removed his weapon from his body and ran off, using the same rifle against another blue-dressed man. The grey one, the one my dream focused on, fell onto his side, his body wracked with coughs of blood. He died quickly, my dream bringing me down so that I was looking right into his eyes as the light faded from them.

That couldn't happen. As the vision turned black, bringing me back into myself and slowly waking me up, I knew for certain that the young man in grey had to live. I knew nothing of why, but he had to live. I still had over one hundred and fifty years before that event would take place, but he had to live, and someone thought it important that I knew about his death long before it happened.

I opened my eyes and stretched, my back cracking loudly as I straightened from my sitting position. I had only gotten a few hours' worth of sleep, but after what I had seen, I would not be falling asleep again until I had to. I hated when my visions came to me in dreams because whenever I fell back asleep after I had a dream vision, the vision replayed itself until it woke me up again. Breakfast needed to be made, though, and I had to check on the progress the young boy's burn had made throughout the night. Peeking into the future, I could see him waking up briefly within the hour, just long enough for me to get him to eat a simple broth to keep his body at least slightly nourished as he fought the effects of the curse.

Deciding to start the broth so that it was ready, I stood and made my way into the kitchen, automatically grabbing everything I needed and throwing it in a small pan to warm. I also boiled some of my healing herbs, knowing that the broth would take the nutrients from them. I started a fresh egg for myself in another pan, frying both sides and slipping it onto a plate. I finished it just as I heard the boy's breathing pick up as he started to awaken. He hadn't made any sounds of pain for quite some time, so I quickly walked in so that I could keep him from moving when he did wake up, setting a bowl with the broth on the bedside table. He moaned softly as I grabbed a chair, not wanting to frighten him if he saw me standing over him. His brown eyes fluttered open and widened as he noticed me, but recognition quickly replaced his shock.

"You," he mumbled, his mind obviously trying to give him a name and place. He knew me, that much he was able to figure out, but he had not yet realized from where.

"Give yourself a minute to recover, and you will figure it out," I explained with a soft smile. "Do not push yourself too hard just yet. You have been through much in the past hours." His confusion increased.

"What . . . The fight," he whispered, talking apparently aggravating his wound from the movement of his chest. Taking breaths in order to talk must have been causing him to stretch the skin.

"Keep going," I encouraged with another smile. "You are getting there." He looked up at the ceiling, and I thanked the Heavens that Hermes had seen fit to make himself scarce until later when the boy was slightly more oriented. Seeing a flaming bird after waking up in a strange house with a Nephilim-who-isn't-a-Nephilim who he did not remember after an injury he received while fighting a coven of angry, curse-throwing black witches would have been a little too much at once.

"You found me," he realized with a gasp. "You were there . . . in the field . . . and used . . . a healing rune-"

"Yes," I said, stopping him from talking too much. His voice was filling with increasing pain as he continued to talk. "I found you after the battle. I had to leave so the men who followed would not find me out there and ask questions," I explained. He closed his eyes and took a slow, shuddering breath.

"Is all of that true?" he asked, and I tilted my head slightly.

"All of what?" I responded, and he turned his head slowly to look at me.

"Everything you told me . . . where you've been . . . what you've seen . . . all of it," he explained, and I gave him a small smile.

"Yes, everything I said was true. I am two hundred years old . . . this year, actually," I said, not realizing how fast the number had crept up on me. He huffed a laugh when he realized what had caused my hesitation.

"The years have blurred, have they?" he asked, and I gave a small laugh in response.

"That they do. Things have been changing, but people have not," I answered with a shake of my head.

"I can understand that. No one likes change," he said, closing his eyes again. Listening to this young boy talk made me realize how much he sounded like an adult, like he had already been through Hell and back in so few years as he had been alive, and that was a shame. His life to this point should have been fun and exciting, not grueling and cruel.

"McCarthy," he said, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Alexander McCarthy." He flipped the hand closest to me so that his palm was facing up and I took it in one of mine, shaking it once.

"Isabella Swan," I responded, not bothering with my false identity. He was Nephilim, so it was okay if he knew. He smiled again, a little less pain in his face.

"Oh, I remember your name, but it is nice to officially meet you, Miss Swan." I clasped my other hand around his and shook my head once.

"None of that 'Miss Swan' stuff now. My only rule here is that you call me Bella," I chided and he laughed, but he had to stop as tremors of pain wracked his body from the sudden movement. I kept one of my hands in his and used the other to hold down his opposite shoulder so he did not move too much. His body stilled not long after, but he was breathing shallowly from pain.

"Do you want another rune?" I asked, and he nodded roughly. I grabbed my stele from my skirts—where it never left—and quickly drew the rune on the opposite side of his torso as the burn. It only took seconds for his breathing to return to normal, and the small cut on his forehead sealed shut. It was pink with newly healed skin, but it would eventually disappear.

"This is not helping you heal, but it seems to be taking away the pain," I explained, looking at the still rough edges of the burn and the rather large blisters in the center. "I made a broth for you with some herbs to help with the pain. I do not want to give you any solid food right after an injury like this, but the next time you wake up, I'll try giving you some bread." He just nodded and sighed softly, trying not to inhale too deeply. "Do you want to try some now, or would you rather wait?"

"Now is fine. I do not think I am going to miraculously improve any time soon," he answered, sounding defeated.

"You will," I said softly. "It is going to take more time than usual, but you will."

Feeding him the broth was a project, but I managed to not make a complete mess of him. I could see the pain slipping away as he finished what I made, and his eyes started drooping with exhaustion.

"I have a son," Alex whispered. "Alexander McCarthy Junior. He and his mother are at the Nephilim school in Pennsylvania. I was asked to come here. I had to leave them behind. I missed his birth to came here to battle the witches. He should have been born just as I arrived not five days ago."

"Why did they ask you to come here?" I asked, confused as to why they would ask him. I did not question his status as a father so early in his life. This was a common occurrence, even though I did not completely agree with it. I had given birth to Mary at eighteen, after all.

"I had fought and killed a black witch back home. They thought that, with a group of Nephilim who had fought black witches, we would have no problem defeating them," he explained, his eyes drifting closed. "We were outnumbered and ambushed. We knew they would be there, but not that many or in that exact location. We thought they would be further in. They attacked as soon as our first line cleared the trees separating our groups." I could only shake my head in disgust. They had greatly underestimated their enemies, and it cost all but one of them their lives.

"Sleep now, Alexander," I said, watching as his body relaxed completely. "We can speak more later." He grumbled something before slipping into a deep sleep.

**Quick A/N: I'm going on vacation for the next two weeks, but I have the next chapter half way done already. Hopefully I will still be able to update next Friday, but I will not have internet the Friday afterward. After that, though, I will be back to my regular updating schedule.**

**~Angels of Twilight**


	11. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10: 1693_

_Salem, Massachusetts_

"Okay, let's take a break," I said, barely out of breath while Alexander belt himself over, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his own.

One year had passed since the attack, and his curse burn was almost completely gone. The first few months had been the hardest, especially since I had to do almost everything for Alex, but when we got word that his wife had been contacted about what happened and sent well-wishes, Alex was much more cooperative and eager to do whatever he could to get back to her. He was so young, but he knew what it meant to be a father and a husband. He felt pain being away from them, knowing that he was not there to take care of them, that he was so far away if something were to happen. I promised him that, if it was the last thing I did on this earth, he would make it back to his family. He would see his wife and son again.

"Thank the Heavens," he huffed. "If I had known your training would be this hard, I wouldn't have agreed so willingly." I laughed and shook my head.

"You will thank me in the end," I rebuffed, walking over and patting him softly on the shoulders. He stood with a deep exhale and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side as we made our way back to the house. He was a good head taller than me, but he bent to kiss my cheek anyway.

"I know I will. You'll just have to hear me complain until that day comes," he said lightly, waving his hand as though it would take forever. I shook my head again and slapped his chest lightly.

We had grown very close over the past year, and when we had dared voice the fact, I had sarcastically mentioned that cleaning up after someone who couldn't do anything for themselves probably had something to do with it. He just laughed it off, but the conversation leading up to that point had me both smiling and tearing up as I thought about it.

We had been talking about the training I wanted to start him on once he was able to move around more on his own, and I was preparing breakfast as he sat at the table. This was four months after the attack, and Alex had only been getting up and walking the few steps from the guest room to the kitchen alone for a week. As I set down a plate of eggs with a fresh loaf of bread, he thanked me.

He called me . . . mom.

I felt a tear fall down my face as I remembered how surprised and caught off guard I was by that little word. Alex had taken one look at me and thought he had offended me in some way, almost ripping open his newly healed skin in order to comfort me and apologize. I waved off his rambling when I moved to his side, keeping him in his seat so that he didn't hurt himself, and hugged his head to my chest. He broke down as soon as I had him in my grasp, grabbing a hold of one of my arms and squeezing as his other arm snaked around my waist, not allowing me to move away. I felt his tears as they soaked into my blouse and fell on my arm, and my own quickly followed. He cried for the family he was forced to be separated from, and I cried for both the family I lost and the family I would never have.

"Hey," Alex said, his voice full of concern as he stopped us just outside the back door. "What are you thinking about that would bring tears to your eyes?" I gave him a reassuring smile and shook my head softly.

"Just thinking is all," I responded, but he was not going to give in. He raised an eyebrow in question, and when I did not elaborate, he sighed.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked, and I gave him a look. "You know I'm not going to stop until you tell me."

"Fine," I sighed. "I was thinking about when you . . . when you called me mom," I said softly, and he hugged me again.

"You were acting just like her when I was young. It . . . slipped out, but I wouldn't take it back. My parents tried to get me a girl to marry as soon as I turned twelve years old. That was the time I lost my mom and only had my mother. You acted like my mom," he explained into my hair. I gave a half laugh.

"You don't know what it means to me to hear that, Alex," I whispered, grabbing the back of his shirt. He just chuckled.

"We give each other what the other is missing. I think we both have benefitted," he responded, and I nodded with a small smile. We continued into the house and I went directly to the kitchen to begin lunch. Alex sat at the table and watched as I went from ice box to counter to sink and back again, grabbing ingredients from everywhere, doing whatever I had to with them, and tossing them in a pot over a small fire. A meat and vegetable stew was slowly forming as I continued, and when I was finished, I grabbed glasses of water for both of us and joined him at the table. Alex was holding his side, something he often did after a training session, and I gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Did I work you too hard?" I asked, and he glared.

"You spent the better part of an hour beating me with a wooden pole and called it training," he whined, sounding exasperated.

"You were supposed to avoid or block the wooden pole I beat you with. The pain means you did not," I said, raising my nose and turning my face from him. He scoffed in reply as I stood to stir the stew.

"I'm still injured. I can't move like I did before, and you know it," he replied.

"So now my training sessions are too hard for you, Alex? I thought a strong young man like you could handle them. I guess I was wrong," I sighed disappointedly. I kept myself facing the pot so that he would not see the smile I was fighting a losing battle against. "I will make them easier for you."

"That's not what I'm saying," he huffed, audibly trying to sound more tough and manly in response to my taunt. "I'm just saying I am not at the level I was right now because of this stupid burn."

"So you want me to take it easy until you are? Make the training easier because you can't handle it?" I asked, and he groaned loudly.

"No, that's not it, either."

"I know," I said, giving up the charade and walking over to him. I placed a hand on his head and hugged my other arm around him. "I'm only teasing. We will get you back to where you were, and then on your way back to that family waiting for you. It's only a matter of time." He sighed and nodded.  
"I know, but the wait is frustrating. I am used to healing almost automatically, and this is taking forever."

"I cannot tell what kind of curse that black witch used, but it was powerful, and the witch was powerful enough to direct something of its magnitude. You _will_ heal, especially now that we have gotten you past the worst of it," I said softly, running a hand through his hair before going back to the stew.

I removed the pot from over the fire and set it on the counter, blowing out the cooking flame. Grabbing two ceramic bowls from the cabinet, I served both of us and carried them to the table, where Alex took his from me so that I could sit. We ate in silence, but I could see him trying not to flinch as he bent forward to eat. I needed to put more salve on the burn or he would have a second heartbeat pounding in his side by the end of the day. Even with the wound wrapped up to support the healing muscle and skin, anything beyond minimal movement hurt him, the pain increasing with the degree of movement.

As soon as he finished, I took his bowl, along with my own, and set them on the counter before ushering him back into his room while ignoring his objections. He removed his shirt slowly in protest, but I pulled it off of him once he got it up to his head. I removed the bandages slowly, not wanting to pull on or agitate anything underneath, but it came away without a problem. The skin underneath was changing from an angry, deep pink to the softer shade of new skin, but it was still sensitive to the touch. Alex flinched as I examined the wound, telling me that is was, in fact, still sensitive.

"This is healing nicely," I said, bringing my hands away and grabbing for the jar of salve.

"Good," Alex responded. "I do not take well to being catered to, especially when it is only because I am not being _allowed_ to do things for myself." I just patted his knee and spread the healing ointment over the burn, focusing more on the center where the skin was still red. When I was finished, Alex raised his arms up and I wrapped the large cloth bandage around him again.

"We will just keep doing what we have been. It is working, so we have no reason to change it. I'll just redraw your healing rune, and then you can rest for a little while," I explained, putting a hand on his shoulder. He just nodded again, and I pulled my stele from my skirts.

Many things happened at that exact moment, and only looking back on them did I manage to catch them all. I pulled my stele from my skirts and placed the tip to Alex's bicep just as the front door burst open from Joan running right through it. I only managed to identify her, and not the frantic look on her face, before I was pulled into the same vision of the two soldiers. She screamed as both of my eyes turned completely white and the precognition rune drew itself where my pupil had been only moments before. Alex pushed my hand away after the stele fell to the floor, the stele landing with a _clink_ I heard only as an echo in my vision as Alex caught my shoulders in his hands to keep me from falling out of my chair. My momentum from spinning around towards the door combined with being hit by the vision had me tumbling towards the unforgiving planks beneath me, but he managed to catch me. Another set of footsteps entered the house through the door seconds after Joan, but I did not see the owner. I did hear Joan as she ran back out of the house, as well as Alex as he tried to break me from my vision, but it did not stop until I saw the dead face of the grey soldier once again.

"Isabella," Alex whispered frantically. "Mom, you must wake up. We need to leave." I came out of my vision and blinked repeatedly, my eyes no longer showing me the dead man's face but Alex's living and quite scared one. He seemed slightly relieved when I looked up at him, but he was still looking towards the door and back to me.

"She was calling for the police, mom. We need to leave," he repeated, just as more shouting could be heard from the streets. I stood up abruptly, grabbing my stele from the floor, and hastily drew the healing rune onto Alex's arm while looking for another to help him later on. We could normally only teleport after creating a portal with authorization from the local council, but I needed to go around that. Even if I did want to make a portal, I had no time to do so. I finally found an older rune, one that had been forgotten about centuries ago, and drew it over Alex's heart before tossing him his shirt. He put it on to hide the marks, and I hid my stele away in my skirts before my house was flooded with police and both of us were bound and dragged out.

"Irene Swan and Alexander McCarthy, you both have been charged with practicing the dark arts and have been labeled witches. By order of the Salem town council, Irene Swan is hereby sentenced to death by hanging, and Alex McCarthy to a test of water. He will be submerged in the lake and weighed down by the ankle. If he survives, may the title of witch be etched into his gravestone for eternity. If he shall not, he shall be cleared of any and all wrongdoing."

_How generous_, I thought to myself as we listened to the leader of the council. _If you kill him, then he is innocent. If you do not, then he is guilty and you sentence him to death anyway._

"He is innocent of what you charge him. I am the only one you will execute, or do you want the blood of an innocent on your hands?" I growled, letting my eyes flash white as I tried to see what was going to happen. It had the appropriate effect, causing gasps from every person who saw them change.

"He will only be found innocent, _witch_, if he fails the trial. Anyone spending time with something like you cannot be trusted," the head councilman sneered. I took a step forward and one of the men standing around us grabbed my arm, moving me so that he was holding both of them behind me.

"Tie her wrists and bring her to the shore. She will watch the trial with us," he continued, his dark brown beard curling with his smile. Another man grabbed one of Alex's arms, roughly steering him towards the small dock next to the pond.

"You cannot do this, you fool! You would kill one of your own because your citizens brought him to me for care? He is not at fault! He is innocent!" I cried, trying to get them to understand.

My breathing was picking up with every step I took, and I fought against my captors the entire walk to the shoreline. I had a perfect view of the dock's edge . . . where they would push Alex into the water with a rock tied to his ankle and drown him in their attempt to kill beings they couldn't distinguish from their own kind. Alex kept looking back at me and I gave him a small smile, letting him know I had a plan. He did not look any more reassured for it, but I could see his trust for me. That was all he needed.

I was positioned right on the edge of the bank and Alex on the edge of the dock. The councilman stood next to me, knowing I could not harm him physically because I was tied up, and used his position to taunt me while they strapped the large stone onto Alex.

"You grew close to the boy, didn't you?" he asked with a smirk, but I did not respond. "I know you did, so you may as well admit it."

"You enjoy putting your own people to death, don't you?" I mimicked. "I know you do, so you may as well admit it." He just chuckled.  
"Childish games will save neither of you, witch. You will die with a noose around your neck, and Alex will die with water in his lungs or fire eating away at his flesh as he screams because of what you did to him. This is all because of you and no one else. Feel proud of your work, witch." Just as he turned back and gave the nod that would condemn Alex to a watery grave, I focused everything in me towards him and the rune I hastily drew before we were pulled away. His body crashed into the water as the mark glowed brightly, but the wakes he left behind only closed over water.

He was gone.

The townspeople scrambled around the dock and the shoreline, trying to find where he went. I only smiled as I felt my power return to me, or what was left of it. Instead of floating under the surface of the pond water, Alex was right outside his home with his young wife finding him, soaking wet but healthy. The councilman saw my face and grabbed me by the neck, squeezing my throat and screaming in my face.

"_What have you done? Where is he, witch? Where is the boy?_" he bellowed, and I kept smiling.

"Somewhere you cannot touch him," was all I could manage with his grip on my throat.

He roared in anger and forcibly dragged me through town and to the hanging post. Shoving my head through the noose, the head councilman spit in my face.

"Savor your last few seconds, you demon," he roared. "Your kind have no place on this earth, and by the power of God's own will, I will remove you from it."

He pulled the lever, releasing the floor from beneath my feet.

I pulled against my restraints, kicking my feet as I tried to find footing.

He laughed as I struggled to save myself.

I smiled as I blacked out.


	12. Chapter 11

_Chapter 11: Jonathan Hunter_

_Place: Salem, Massachusetts_

_Finally_, thought Councilman Jonathan Hunter. _Finally, that little witch is dead. As soon as she came into town, I could tell something was wrong with her. She needed to die, and I finally managed to do it. I feel even better about it knowing her blood is on my hands, that I was the one to put the loop around her neck and break her stubborn body. She was a killer, a witch, an abomination. A demon._

Jonathan's face was relaxed, a satisfied smile gracing his thin lips. The sun was setting on what he could only think of as the best day of his life. He was fifty years old, and he had the deaths of five witches under his belt from only the past few months. God had graced him with one demon's life for every decade of his, and Jonathan felt as though he were a part of God's army, fighting against all that was unholy and unnatural. He felt important. He felt powerful. He took pleasure from their deaths, from the control he had as he ordered the end of their lives, and it only grew as they struggled to save themselves, as the women and children watching gasped in horror, as the light faded from the beasts' eyes.

Jonathan knew God wanted him to rejoice in the fact that he was doing Holy work. He did not think of the taint growing from the pleasure . . . how, by the time of Irene Swan's hanging, he was not enjoying the death of a demon, but the death in general. The power the executions were giving him over others was corrupting him, making him much quicker in his decisions to execute someone even suspected of witchcraft. He needed nothing more than suspicion, and he never gave the death a second thought.

"Robin," he called, and his wife peeked her head in from the kitchen. Her dirty blonde hair was slightly mussed, and her face paint was starting to run. The front of her dress was wet, and her eyes were red from crying. Her tears angered Jonathan. She should have been rejoicing. She should have been congratulating him. She should have been _happy_. Robin seemed to sense his anger, shrinking back from the doorway and putting her hands in front of her chest defensively.

"Jonathan, you must understand. Irene may have been a witch, but she still did so much for the people here. She has cured and healed almost every citizen of this town of something, and ease the birth or passing of others. I do not understand why you are acting this way. She was good—" she pleaded, but Jonathan cut her off with a hard smack to her cheek. She gasped and put her hand to the offended skin, which stung greatly from the sharp impact.

"Shut your mouth, woman! You do not fully understand what it is you speak of! She was _nothing_, least of all good," he roared, towering over his small-statured spouse. Her bright green eyes dulled with fear as he continued, his index finger only a hair's width from her face. "She was a_ demon_, the spawn of the Devil himself. She was unholy, and thus undeserving of a life on God's earth. That is why her body is going to be burned, so that no other demon will be able to bring her back to taint God's children."

Robin shuttered as an evil grin slowly spread across her husband's face. He had changed so much in the past year that she often found herself wondering who it was she was married to, because she was certain he was not Jonathan Hunter. This man who reveled in the death of others, in their pain and suffering, in the disgust of those forced to watch . . . this was not her husband. This was not her John.

Another tear slipped down Robin's face as she remembered both the beautiful but old soul of Irene Swan and the gentle, caring man she had married, mutual victims of a power her husband had hesitantly taken when the previous Head Councilman passed away. In the end, Jonathan Hunter died with that acceptance, so soon followed by the rise of the witch trials.

Jonathan saw his wife's tear, and he thought not of the possible reasons behind it; he assumed she was still crying over the dead witch Irene. Robin watched his nostrils flare in anger with a resigned acceptance and morbid curiosity. She knew what was coming, but she had never noticed such a tell in her husband.

_It must have come from the stranger who replaced my husband_, she thought to herself as Jonathan pulled his hand back to strike her again. She only closed her eyes in preparation. Anything more would have angered him further, something she would avoid at all costs, at least until _her_ John somehow made it back. She would stay and wait for him, even if it appeared that he was gone for good. The strike she anticipated never came, though, a crash sounding from the front door startling both of them.

"Councilman Hunter, you must come quickly!" screamed Wallace Taylor, a citizen of the town and one of those designated to prepare a fire for Irene's cremation. Had someone else not given that task rushed in and demanded something of Jonathan, they would have been severely reprimanded. As it was, Jonathan felt a stab of fear lance his body.

"What is it, Wallace?" Jonathan asked, his voice tight with apprehension. He had a feeling, right in the pit of his stomach, that something was very wrong, and that he knew exactly what young Mr. Taylor was going to tell him.

"The witch's body, Councilman . . .it's gone," Wallace wheezed, bending forward slightly with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Jonathan said nothing as he stormed past the young man, heading directly for the town's small church. When he saw only the cloth that had shrouded the demon's body, a terrible roar ripped itself from his throat, a sound that echoed for miles.

Isabella stumbled from tree trunk to tree trunk as she tried to get as far away from her persecutors as she could. Her body felt as though it were going to collapse at any moment, but she pushed on. Between transporting Alex back to his family and using her shield to protect her neck enough to keep her alive, Bella was completely drained of energy. In truth, his transport should not have happened at all.

Bella had never attempted to transport someone, and for a Nephilim to do so without a portal was unheard of . . . So how did it happen? It was the only question Bella could think as she forced her depleted form as far as it would go. How had she known she would be able to transport him? How did she know all she would need is a run? How did she know what to do? How had she found the immense pool of energy to do it? _How_?

She knew she was a direct descendant of the Archangel Abbadon, but her family was still Nephilim. They were no stronger or weaker than any other pure Nephilim family, or even those Nephilim with human spouses. Their children were just as strong, fast, and graceful, and developed just as a pure family's did. So where had her extra power come from, and why did she have it? The Lycan bite would not have given her that kind of power; they were not magical beings themselves, only cursed to change into the form of a wolf man on every full moon.

Finally at the end of her strength, Bella collapsed against an ancient oak, its bark rubbing her back like a comforting hand. Its shadow embraced her body, hugging her to it as if were the only protection she needed against the dark and the monsters it housed. She was only conscious for a few seconds before she passed out, her mind in the same condition as her body.

What Bella did not see were the many small black eyes watching her from the branches high above. The small pixies peeked out of their beds at the disturbances sounding from the forest. They heard from those closer to the source that a human was coming through the forest, a dark ring around her pale neck. She emanated pain, suffering, and confusion, touching the normally prankish pixies. When she collapsed, one of the green-skinned pixies, Willow, cautiously made her way down to investigate. She was a younger pixie, and the others watching could not deny this as she approached a human so quickly.

"Ivy!" she called, looking back up to the others. "Ivy, I don't think this is a human." This caught Willow's friend's attention, a green and purple pixie named Ivy, as well as one of the elders eavesdropping on the youngster's exploration.

"What makes you think this?" the elder asked, standing in his bed of leaves to see the child-pixie.

"She has those marks on her skin, sir. We learned in our lessons that these are only on certain humans, but they are not human. They are . . . they are," she hesitated, trying to remember the right pronunciation. "Neph . . . Nephilim. I think she is one of those. She has three dark marks and many faded ones." She screwed her face up in confusion as she continued. "But I feel . . . I feel magic on her, sir." Willow looked up at her elder, Aspen, and asked, "How can that be? I did not know Nephilim have magic."

"They usually do not," Aspen replied, his own face showing confusion.

He made his way down the oak's trunk, descending much more slowly than Willow had out of habit, and saw and felt for himself what the young one had told him. He was only able to come to one possibility, and decided he would have to discuss this with the other elders before making a definite conclusion. He made his way back up the tree to do just that as another pixie made his way towards the site of such confusion, a stranger in his shadow.

"Aspen!" called the pixie's brother Birch. "Aspen, wait! This man knows the girl. Maybe he can help her." Aspen stopped at the sound of his brother's call, and his interest was piqued by what his brother said. The man following Birch paid the pixies no attention, though, when his eyes fell on Isabella's collapsed form. He kneeled down next to her and took her face gently in his hands, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs.

"Carlisle, can you tell Aspen what you told me?" Birch asked, and Carlisle answered without taking his sad eyes away from his friend.

"I met her during the attack that led to my change into a vampire," he started, his voice soft and hiding the emotions that battered his mind. "She saved me long enough to be changed. She said something about me having something bigger to do, that I needed to survive so that I could complete my task, but neither of us knows what it is. That was thirty years ago." The pixies gaped at Carlisle, unable to believe such a tale. No human had lived over one hundred years, let alone over two. This human looked only eighteen years old, twenty at the most.

"Her name is Isabella Swan, and she was born to two Nephilim in 1492. She's two hundred and one years old, and has led a life I would not wish on my worst enemy," Carlisle continued, his gaze moving from Bella's closed eyes to the dark purple bruise around her neck. The pixies asked nothing else of him, so he picked Bella up in his arms and turned to the forest and the home he had made for himself. He did not know what happened to Isabella, but he vowed to care for her just as she had him.


	13. Chapter 12

_Chapter_ _12:_ _1693_

_White. Everything was white. Except . . . nothing was there. Just white. I turned to my left. White. I turned to my right. White. Up. White. Down. White._

_Just . . . white._

What is going on?_ I thought as I tried to find _anything_ in the white sea surrounding me. I remembered passing out as I tried to get away from Salem, but that was where my memory stopped. Only the white existed after that point. I assumed I was unconscious, but why was everything white? Why did I have any sense of time? When I had passed out before, I never remembered the in-between. This time, I knew I was unconscious. I felt as though I were floating in the white abyss._

_What felt like at least a few hours passed before I saw the white ripple from the corner of my eye. I turned to face the spot, which looked as though someone had thrown a stone into standing water, and a face slowly started appearing in the center. I tried to call to the form, but nothing came out of my mouth. I tried again and again, but still the same result. The face finally took shape, and I silently gasped at who emerged from the stark white before me._

"Dolores,"_ I whispered mentally, and she smiled as though she had heard me._

"Hello, dear,"_ she said, but her mouth never moved. My confusion must have shown on my face because she proceeded to laugh lightly and explain what was happening._

"We do not have much time, dear, but I will attempt to tell you what I can,"_ she started, still not moving her lips as she spoke._ "First, you have depleted your energy stores to the point where your mind has separated itself from your body in an attempt to stop you from draining yourself until you die. We do not have a body to speak with, which is why we can only talk when we think." _She paused for a moment, obviously preparing herself before she continued._

"Your parents were not completely honest with you when they told you what you are, and neither was I when you asked me who I was. To sum it up quickly, you are both Nephilim and witch, and I am your grandmother, your father's mother." _She paused to give me a moment to register what she just said, and I felt as though my jaw had dropped right off my face with my shock. Before I could begin asking questions, though, she continued._

"You know the story that your father was adopted by a witch when his mother died during childbirth, correct?" _I could only nod my agreement._

"This is only partially true. When I gave birth to your father, I was very young. My parents—your great grandparents—were a witch and wizard from one of the strongest lines of magic in the world. The Nightingales were known for giving birth to the most powerful healers—the strongest of the witches and wizards because of the immense power and delicate nature of the work—but I never showed any signs of magic. We assumed I was human, born without any magical capabilities. I married a pureblood Nephilim by the name of Swan, and the power of the bloodline was so strong in Charles, I was almost killed by it. You already know about your father's family line leading back to Abbadon, the Angel of Destruction. I was losing too much blood and energy during his birth. My mother-in-law wrote me off as dead before your father was even born, her only concern being for her first and only grandchild's survival. She and my mother could feel the power in Charles and knew he would survive, but they could also feel it steadily flowing out of me." _She paused and sighed softly, her face sad as she remembered all of this. I could understand why._

"When I told your father that he was not actually a pureblood Nephilim, he was getting ready to marry your mother. He never spoke to me again after that day, but I kept watch over you after you were born. Just like you, my powers awakened when my body was close to death instead of slowly developing after my birth. We are witches born out of our own imminent destruction, Isabella. We are powerful out of necessity, not luxury." _I thought about everything she had said, then about everything I had questioned, and I watched everything fall into place as though it had only been temporarily jumbled up. It just . . . made sense. I did have one question, though, and Dolores seemed to notice. She smiled and nodded for me to ask._

"What about my mother?" _I asked._ "Where does her family fall in this?" _Dolores nodded once, seemingly expecting my question._

"Your mother and father were arranged to marry because of their mutually powerful bloodlines. The Nephilims' main concern was keeping the future Nephilim as strong as possible, so many of the marriages were arranged by power. Your mother Renee was from a family whose line went back to another Fallen Angel named Azza, whose name means 'the strong.' She also had witch blood from one of the stronger magic families. They were not as strong as the Nightingales, but the Blackwaters were still formidable. Both were half-breeds, and so are you. This is how you were able to save your friend and yourself. This is where that power came from, Isabella," _she finished with a sad smile. I did not respond for quite some time, trying to wrap my mind around everything I had learned about myself. I couldn't even begin before she spoke again._

"You have to go back now, Isabella," _she said softly, giving me another sad smile._ "Your body is calling you back. Listen for it, and follow its call back to yourself. If you remain here too long and ignore the call, you will be lost. You will become a wraith, doomed to wander the in-between with no connection to the living or the dead." _Her voice was becoming much more urgent as she explained this to me. She started fading away, back into the whiteness she had appeared out of, and I could feel my heartbeat and breathing start picking up. I shouldn't have, but I knew I was mentally panicking and could only assume my body would respond in kind, especially if it was trying to call my mind back to it._

"Please don't leave," _I whispered without conviction. I knew the effort was pointless, but I was clinging to the knowledge that she was all I had left of my family. I had spent my grandmother's last few months with her, but I never knew it, and that hurt me more than anything else, more than knowing my family had lied to me about who and what I was since the day I was born. My father knew he was not full Nephilim, and when my grandmother told him, he devised a story that his real mother had died and the witch who raised him had taken over his care. I never got to ask why my mother did not tell me about the magic in her blood, but maybe the reason did not matter. Maybe all that mattered was that I finally knew. I was no longer who I thought I was, but I knew for sure _what_ I was._

"Go back, my granddaughter, and find out who you really are," _Dolores said right before her face melted back into the white surrounding me._

_Her words echoed in my mind as I felt a pulling sensation from behind me, trying to get my attention only to grow stronger when it did. I mentally reached for the sensation and found a long, thin thread leading into the whiteness beyond. Grabbing hold of it, I closed my eyes and let myself flow along to wherever the thread would lead me._

I woke up suddenly with a gasp, something like cold iron wrapped loosely around my neck as a bundle of warmth rested on my stomach. I tried to lift my hands to remove whatever was around me, not bothering to look around first, and was caught by surprise again when my hands were met by cool fingers. Someone was holding me around my neck, but when I tried to sit up, I couldn't. Whoever it was was holding me down.

"Bella, please calm down," my captor said as I struggled to free myself, his voice sounding faintly familiar. I panicked even more when I realized my body was not responding to my panic, lying completely still under this stranger's hands while my heart beat its way out of my chest. "You are okay, Bella. It's Carlisle, Bella. Carlisle Cullen. We met in London, remember?"

_Carlisle?_ His name caused me to stop my futile attempts to free myself. My mind immediately brought his face forward, the glowing red eyes and perfect features topped by glistening blonde hair bringing up a feeling of hope that had almost died. _He's still alive . . . that has to mean something . . . I have to be doing something right . . . but this is so hard . . ._

"Bella, what happened to you?" Carlisle whispered, obviously asking the question to himself. I let my body relax in his embrace as he moved his ice-cold hands from around my neck to my cheeks, caressing them softly as he sighed.

"Rest, my friend, and let me care for you as you did for me," he said sadly, taking my hands in his and kissing the backs. "Nothing will happen to you as long as you are here with me." I sighed in response, not physically able to do anything else, and thought to myself, _If only . . ._

"Three days?" I asked Carlisle. He only smiled and nodded, thinking my shock was funny. Hermes squawked at the high pitch of my voice from his perch on my feet. "I just _slept_ for _three days_?" He tried to hold in his laughter, but I could tell he was losing the fight. "I'm so glad you think this is funny, Carlisle. I can't believe I wasted so much time _sleeping_!" I yelled, exasperated.

I woke up to Carlisle standing over me with a small cup of water and a slice of bread. He lifted me into a sitting position, as I had not yet recovered enough to do it myself, and proceeded to tell me everything that happened since I passed out in the forest. He heard the cries of shock and anger from the people of Salem as he was running through the forest looking for me. The Volturi had found a prophetic poem that Carlisle thought concerned me, so he left them and came to the colonies in a desperate attempt to find and save me from the events it had foretold. He had been listening for any conversation relating to witches and the trials, and had found the first from the very town that had attempted to kill me. He was too late, but he wanted to find me and make sure I was alright. The pixies living in the forest heard him coming after I had stumbled through and brought him to where I had collapsed. He told them what he knew about me, and their curiosity led them to insist on helping him take care of me ever since. They were gathering herbs and plants to help me gain my strength back at that moment. I was slightly shocked, seeing as though pixies were not known for their caring nature, but the mischievousness of pranksters.

We were in a small cottage Carlisle had hastily built as soon as he arrived, hoping he would reach me in time and guaranteeing the two of us somewhere safe to catch up and plan what to do next. It had two small bedrooms, a kitchen, and a dining area, all furnished with the most basic of furniture he had been able to take from abandoned or run-down homes in the nearby towns. He said he felt bad about taking them, but his guilt was not strong enough to stop him from making a place for me to heal. He had not known whether my wounds would be emotional or physical, but he had prepared for both.

"You cannot waste time when it is spent healing, Isabella," he said seriously. "Your health is more important than anything else." Hermes cooed in agreement, joining in our conversation as any person would. He had scared Carlisle when he showed up on the windowsill of my room, tapping on the panes with his beak until I told Carlisle he was my friend.

"I know," I said softly. "I just feel like I'm always supposed to be somewhere at some time doing something, and time spent _not_ doing something seems wasted." I sighed, feeling the weight of the world more heavily on my shoulders at that moment than I ever did before. Hermes moved himself until he was sitting next to me, on the opposite side Carlisle was on, and rested his forehead against my arm. His heat was soothing.

"And that is a shame," Carlisle responded harshly. "You started your life with hardships, and were given immortality only to spend it fighting to save the lives of others who have only tried to take yours. Someone has to protect the humans from threats they cannot even see, that much I understand, but you should not be the only one fighting a war that will never end."

I closed my eyes and hung my head, letting the pure honesty and concern flow over me. It was nice, the feeling of someone who knew _me_ care so much. I loved Alex like a son, but he did not know everything about me. He loved me as his mother, but he did not know enough about Isabella Swan to love _her_.

"Thank you, Carlisle," I whispered as he wrapped his arms around me, being careful of Hermes. "I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this. I feel like I win one battle and lose three more. I've almost died more times than I can count, but . . . I think . . . I think this was the worst. The Councilman . . . he _wanted_ to kill me, Carlisle. He was not just going to kill another witch. He wanted _me_ dead, and I don't understand why. Something is happening to these people, making them turn against and hate each other, and I'm getting caught in the middle. I don't . . ." I started, getting choked up. I grabbed Carlisle's shirt in my hands before I tried to finish. "I don't know if I can do this anymore." He hushed me gently, rocking slowly from side to side.

"I know, and you should not have to," he responded with pain in his voice. He was silent for a moment before he spoke again.

"Before you were bitten, what did you want to do with your life? What did you want to be?" he asked. I leaned back abruptly and looked at him with shock.

"Carlisle, when I was growing up, the only thing a woman _could_ be was a wife and mother. We had no other options, and the only options that have opened up concern childcare, cleaning, or being some kind of caretaker, like my jobs as a healer. We did not and do not have the same number of options as men. You know that," I explained with confusion. His question was odd, seeing as though the place for women during my era and his was not that different. Carlisle grew thoughtful for a moment before clarifying his question.

"I did not ask that properly. I apologize," he said, bowing his head slightly. "What I meant was, if you had had the chance at a career, what would you have been?" I thought about his question for a moment before shaking my head slowly.

"I . . . I don't know. I never took the time to think about it. My life was consumed with Nephilim training and finding a husband before I got too old to be married off easily. Being something other than a wife, mother, and Nephilim never came to mind," I rambled as my mind turned the question over and over. I was having trouble thinking of being anything else, no other career or life paths coming to mind. Carlisle broke into my thoughts with a quiet admission.

"I wanted to be a doctor," he said softly. "I wanted to help people, but I felt as though I were destined to become a preacher, to become a vampire hunter. I always hated killing, no matter what the target was, but I knew it was what was expected of me. My father had trained me for both positions since I was very small, and I never had the courage to tell him it was not what I wanted for myself. I still want to help people, but . . . I don't know if I could now, not with what I am."

"Have you attacked a human since the last time we saw each other?" I asked, and he shook his head frantically.

"Oh, no! No, I would never! I wouldn't have allowed myself to live another moment after hurting a human," he exclaimed like I was accusing him. I patted his chest softly, his arms still wrapped around me as he hugged me to his side.

"I'm not accusing you of do so, Carlisle. I'm trying to prove a point," I explained, and he gave me a questioning look. "You have never, in the thirty years you have been a vampire, tasted human blood, and yet you doubt your ability to be around them. You have smelled fresh blood and not given in to the urge to taste of it, and yet you doubt yourself." I did not bother forming my statements as questions because they were just that. Statements. I knew them to be true, and so did Carlisle.

"Your fear of failure is what is holding you back, my friend, not your fear of _you_." Carlisle nodded slowly as I closed my eyes and yawned quietly, feeling my energy flagging again. Apparently three days was not long enough to replenish myself. Carlisle caught the movement and smiled sadly, his eyes showing that he was not completely focused on me; he was thinking, and very seriously.

"You need your rest, Bella. You still have a lot of healing to do," Carlisle said softly, standing up and positioning me so that I was lying down again. I still had one question, though.

"Carlisle," I slurred, my body quickly falling unconscious. "When I woke up . . . the first . . . why were . . . your hands around . . ."

"I was using the coldness of my hands to sooth the wound around your neck," he answered, getting the gist of my question and saving me the effort of trying to finish it. "You have a ring of raw skin over a dark purple bruise, so I was trying to speed up the healing as much as I could until you were string enough to heal yourself." I hummed a response so he knew I heard him, but I was quickly succumbing to the darkness cradling my mind.

"Rest well, Bella," he said, and it was the last thing I heard before I was fast asleep once more.

Two weeks later found me saying goodbye to Carlisle once more. I spent the past two weeks trying valiantly to replenish what turned out to be an immense amount of energy while Carlisle doted on me, constantly trying to get me to eat or drink something. I had constantly tried activating my healing rune, but my attempts failed until only a few days ago. The energy built itself up in order to heal me, but it could not hold together long enough for the rune to be fully activated.

We had discussed everything since the day I left him by the river to decide his life's path, from Carlisle's time with the Volturi and what he discovered there (like how they _really_ wanted to find me) to my encounter with my mentor who turned out to be the grandmother I never knew because my father had denounced her as his mother. When we were not talking, I was sleeping and he was either reading whatever books he had been able to find or hunting nearby to keep himself full around me. I knew he did not have to worry, and so did he, but he felt better knowing the temptation would not even rise, not that it did anyway.

I locked the door of the cottage behind me and turned to Carlisle, who was waiting at the end of the path. Hermes was perched gently on my shoulder, his wings twitching in excitement. He smiled sadly as I stood in front of him, neither of us wanting to speak. The reality that both of us would be alone again for who knows how long was frightening, and we were not hiding that fact from each other. We had discussed our next steps the night before, and I decided I would start making my way to Texas. I did not know what I would come across along the way, but the sooner I left, the better. Carlisle was going to head down south. I saw him working in a small village as a doctor. The large smile on his face told me all I needed to know before I informed him of my vision. I managed to convince him to give it a try, and he finally acquiesced after I told him he would be successful. He knew he would have to leave after a while because he did not age, but he seemed unconcerned by this. I had the same problem, but as I would be travelling for one hundred and seventy-three years, moving from city to city until I reached my destination of Galveston, Texas. It was a long ways from Salem, Massachusetts.

Carlisle and I embraced, having said our goodbyes the night before, and pulled away after a moment. He inclined his head to Hermes, who bowed slightly on my shoulder, and turned to walk away. I called after him, one last thing coming to mind before we parted ways.

"I never answered your question," I said vaguely, and Carlisle turned back to me with a question written on his face. "About what I would have been had my life been different."  
"Oh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "And what did you decide?" I waited a moment before answering.

"I live a life filled with mysterious creatures, monsters out of nightmares, and beings humans could not even begin to imagine existing in their world. I have seen, felt, heard, smelled, and touched so many things no one else may never get to experience for themselves. Why should I keep that knowledge to myself, even if I have to make it all seem fake?" I explained thoughtfully.

"A writer," I finally said. "I would be a writer. Songs, poems, stories, novels . . . any method that would let me share bits and pieces of my story." Carlisle nodded once, looking at me with his head turned to the side.

"Well, I cannot wait to finally read something of yours, Ms. Swan. May luck be with you, and I hope to see you again," he said, turning away once more and walking towards the forest.

"And the same to you."


	14. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13: 1862_

_A Few Miles Outside Galveston, Texas_

Galveston, Texas, was situated on the very western edge of the state, on a small island just off the coast. The only way to get to the island was by a bridge reaching from the mainland out to the shoreline. I could just begin to see the Galveston Bay on the horizon, but the sun was setting fast. If I stopped now and waited until morning, I would make the bridge by midday. That option was favorable to chancing night travel and possible attack. Sounds of movement echoed from all around me as beasts both natural and supernatural either bedded down for the night or awakened to prey on those asleep until morning came once more.

I found myself a large tree and used the lower limbs to climb up, situating myself on a rather large branch some ten feet from the ground. I draped a blanket over myself, the rough texture of my trousers making a soft scratching sound as the blanket rubbed against them. Thankfully, I had left behind the large, heavy dresses I had worn and carted with me for centuries, trading them for men's pants and blouses made of material so light, it provided little to no resistance when I was fighting. They were quite chilly, though, when the nights turned cold during my travels. This would soon be the case, and was all the more reason for me to reach Galveston as quickly as possible.

Galveston, Texas, was to be my new home for the next three months. The day I saw in my vision, the one of the two soldiers fighting, would happen in January of the upcoming year. October of 1862 had just begun, bringing with it the decreasing temperatures I wanted to avoid until I reached the city. I was going to spend a month or so in Virginia Point, Texas, but a rumor of growing disappearances in Galveston—mostly of sailors as they went out fishing or those fishing off the coast—drove me to head straight to the city. I wanted to find out what was going on before the battle, and as my visions were refusing to show me what would happen, I was going in blind. My first stop was the marina where the fishing vessels were launched and the shore nets thrown to see if I could sense anything amiss.

Settling into my tree post with Hermes keeping watch above me, I fell asleep, letting all thoughts of my upcoming investigation leave my mind, if just for the moment.

The noonday sun shone brightly as I walked up the path into the city. The constant but soft breeze blowing in from the gulf left the air crisp and cool, making me thankful that I had a light cloak draped around my shoulders. My pack swung slightly as I walked, as well as the seraph blade hanging from my belt, creating a sharp clink-and-scratch sound that slowly caught the attention of those either coming home for lunch or returning to work afterward. A small, wary-looking crowd began to gather as I walked up, and I could feel that many of them were Nephilim. Their energy flowed through the entire town, testing the determination of a traveler's desire to enter. If they braved the tension and sense of danger coming from the inhabitants, they would enter. If not, their journey would be slightly longer than they first thought.

I kept my pace slow to give them time to do or say something before I got too close, but when no one did, I stopped just outside the wooden fence marking the border of the city. Deciding it was my best course of action at the moment, I loosened my grip on my magic and let it flow out towards the group, approaching and touching theirs gently. From the contact, they could see my intentions as benevolent and that I was one of them, not a human traveler or one of the many creatures able to create a glamour to look and feel like a Nephilim. The one aspect other creatures could not replicate—the one thing that would tell them I truly was one—was our magic. Infused with angel's blood as it was, Nephilim magic could not be faked, no matter the strength of the beast or spell caster. The relief of most of the crowd's tension at the knowledge that I was truly what I seemed proved testament to the fact.

"Welcome, sister, to Galveston," an older man standing at the head of the crowd said. He closed the distance between us, and I could not help but tense at his approach. I had been attacked too often in the past three hundred and some odd years not to, and he seemed to notice my hesitation to have him close. My body was turned so that I was almost completely sideways towards the people, my strong side facing them to make a retreat easier. He held his hands out to the side and showed me his palms, silently telling me he meant no harm, but I could not even get myself to look away from his face; I saw his hands in my peripheral vision. The ten or so people behind him had faces ranging from sadness to pity as they looked at me, and I returned their looks with one of wariness.

"We will not hurt you, my dear," the man continued. He looked to be in his late fifties, his dark brown hair starting to recede and turn grey. I could see subtle wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth, evidence of much laughter earlier in his life. The exhaustion evident in his face told me much time had passed since he genuinely smiled.

"My name is Adam, and I run the Nephilim training school here in Galveston. You seem to have travelled a long ways. Can I offer you a hot meal?" Adam asked, and I hesitated, my face showing my concern. He chuckled lightly and beckoned towards the crowd, a woman about the same age as him coming forward.

"This is my wife, Margaret. She will show you to our guestroom, if you will follow her," he explained, wrapping his arm around the shoulders of the slight, light-haired brunette. The look he gave her when he introduced her to me showed just how deeply his love for his wife went, and I could not find words to describe it. That look brought forth memories of George—memories that had laid dormant in me for the past three hundred years—and when I saw his face when he looked at me and compared it to what I saw before me, I knew it was foolish to try. Henry had felt nothing like what Adam felt for Margaret. I had felt nothing like that for George. I had never felt that in my entire existence.

I . . . _wanted_ that.

Margaret broke into my thoughts by beckoning me to follow her, the others who had massed at the gate dispersing so as not to frighten or intimidate me into running. That was the order Adam gave them, at least. I had a fleeting thought that I never would have entered if my path had been lined on either side by people I did not know, but it was soon gone as I mindlessly followed the woman into the town and up to a rather large house.

The house itself was white, and the shutters were a light sky blue. It stood two stories high, and I was able to count fourteen windows just on the front of the structure. The back of the house was out of my range of vision, letting my imagination run wild with just how big the place was. The yard was bright green and perfectly maintained, the gardens lovingly organized to accentuate the colors of the house. I hadn't seen very many houses resembling this, but the closest was a manor-house I passed on my journey. I couldn't even remember where exactly I had seen it, but it looked similar in construction.

All of the houses around it were one story and looked to be one- or two-bedrooms homes. As I looked around the house, I noticed movement in one of the manor's upper windows. A young man's face looked down at me, and was quickly joined by a young girl, both of them watching me with pure curiosity. Margaret followed my gaze and waved at the two, who happily waved back.

"Orphans," Margaret whispered to me as we walked slowly up the front path. "Both of their parents were killed at sea at the beginning of the fishing season. They had been training here at the school already, so I just moved them in with Adam and me. You'll meet them when you are ready, but they'll be fighting me to at least say hi."

We stopped at the front door, and she gestured for me to place my hand on the door knob. I hadn't noticed how close I had moved to her until she did so, and she was visibly trying to hold back her knowing smile. Keeping a straight face so that she would not see that I noticed what she had, I grabbed the knob and bowed my head. I then recited the phrase that allowed the school to look into a person's heart and judge them either worthy or unworthy of sanctuary inside: "_Isabella Swan est nomen meum, et require in domo sanctuarii Nephilim_,"

_My name is Isabella Swan, and I seek sanctuary in this home of Nephilim_, I thought to myself, translating the ancient Latin words immediately after they left my lips. One thing that had not changed throughout my life was that one phrase. No matter the year, decade, century, or millennium, that phrase had, was, and would always be the same. A small comfort for someone frozen in a world that was ever-shifting, ever-adapting to the lifestyles and inventions of those in it.

The door immediately opened, almost before the last word left my mouth, and I stepped back to allow Margaret to go ahead of me. She seemed somewhat shocked at the . . . _enthusiasm_ in which the school opened for me. So was I, but I was not about to question the reasons behind it, not when it meant I was safe, if only for a short while.  
"This is the main hall," Margaret began, gesturing with a hand to the extravagance of the room.

Oil paintings and portraits lined one side of the grand staircase leading to the next floor, their dark wood frames stark contrasts to the crisp white wall behind them. A banister of matching darkness flowed from the top of the staircase to the bottom, a little decorative turn of the wood softening the end of the rail. A large glass chandelier hung from the ceiling above me, the light from the candle flames refracting off the delicate glass and making the entire piece shimmer softly. To my left was what looked to be a family room, but I was directed to the right before I was able to take in more than the same white walls and dark frames, as well as a few rather large couches.

Margaret brought me through the dining room, with a heavy oak table that looked big enough to seat ten or more, and into an equally large kitchen. Three gas stoves lined the walls, coupled with just as many ice boxes. The center of the floor had three large wooden tables—of much lesser quality than the dining table—where food was prepped and served. This was where Margaret steered herself, grabbing a fresh loaf of bread from the breadbox and slicing the end off. She handed it to me, but when she saw my hesitation, she placed it in front of me on the table and sliced the loaf twice more.

Margaret buzzed around the room as I picked up the bread and ate it, grabbing different items from cabinets, ice boxes, and spice racks and piling them on the table. I lost track of her movements as I focused everything she was mumbling. She talked about the history of the school, how they were celebrating their one hundredth year open and were about to have their three-hundredth student begin training tomorrow. She also told me of how she and Adam met. Their parents had arranged for them to meet at the very school they now ran without their knowledge, and they had actually wanted nothing to do with one another when they first met. Both had thought the other to be arrogant and rude, while really their young minds had been making up any and all excuses to dismiss their feelings of attraction for another.

"We were in denial," she said, spreading some kind of jam on the bread slices as a pot of broth bubbled behind her. "The entire time we tried to hate each other, we were really in the same situation, doing the same things in order to push away the feelings."

Everything finally changed when they were paired for their first mission—on purpose, of course—and both of them had been severely injured. Fate had forced them to work together and put aside their false feelings of hate and anger in order to save each other. They had moved in perfect sync, not needing to even speak in order for the other to understand their next move. Once they finally let go, they easily dispatched the vampire that had been hunting close to town.

"We never went back to the way we had acted before," she finished, placing a bowl of chicken soup and the bread in front of me and pulling up a chair that had been sitting against the wall. "I was Mrs. Margaret Anne Platt only three months later. No one ever saw Adam without me, or me without Adam. We fought together, healed together, and loved together. My baby daughter is proof of that."

"You have a child?" I found myself saying before I could stop. She jumped at the sound of my voice, but quickly composed herself and nodded.

"Yes, Abigail. She is only six months old, but she was the first child I successfully carried." Sadness washed over her as painful memories came to the forefront of her mind. "I either lost the others before their birth, or they died of illness very soon afterward. I'm fifty four years old, so carrying Abigail to term was a miracle in itself."

This information saddened me, making me think of the large happy family this naturally maternal woman and her husband could have had if fate had allowed it. Inevitably, a memory of holding my little Mary assaulted my mind, forcing a tear from my eye before I could blink it away and compose myself. At least I had gotten to know my daughter a little before I lost her. Margaret had lost most of her children before they ever really knew who she was. She startled me by placing a small hankie on the table, a sympathetic yet curious look on her face. I dabbed the offending moisture away, handing her back the garment once I was finished. She took it, being careful not to let her fingers touch mine, and waited a moment to see if I would explain. When I did nothing but look at my hands as they rested on the table, she reached in front of me and took my now empty plate. I hadn't even realized I finished the food she had given me, and I whispered a quiet thank you as I tried to compose myself once more.

"Not a problem, dear," Margaret responded just as a small head peeked around the edge of the door leading from the kitchen and into a part of the house I had not seen.

She was the same girl from the upstairs window and looked about six years old. Her hair was a bright yellow-blonde, and she had light blue eyes to match. Her skin was a shade darker than pale, and little web-like lines, almost like scars, shone on her upper arms, proof of her life as a training Nephilim. The dark purple of her dress made the lightness of the marks and her skin all the more apparent. Her face was round, and her young eyes sparkled with curiosity, but she had a certain hesitance about her as she looked at Margaret for permission to enter. Margaret, in turn, looked at me. I shrugged a shoulder and nodded once, and the little girl's face erupted into a bright smile that I could not help but return. She walked right up to me and stopped, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

"My name is Marianne. What's yours?" she asked, and Margaret tsked.

"You should not ask questions of a guest before they have settled in, Miss Mary. You know better," she chided, and Marianne looked down at her feet.

"My name is Isabella," I responded, making both Marianne and Margaret look up at me in surprise. A look came over the young girl's face, and I only had a moment to prepare myself for the onslaught of questions, comments, and stories I could see coming. She did not even have her mouth open before the words started spilling out, and she did not stop to allow responses to anything she said. I was told about her entire six years of life in what seemed to be only five minutes, and when she finally stopped with a question for me, I took a second before I answered. I hadn't even realized she had stopped.

"I apologize, Marianne. What did you ask?" I questioned, feeling bad for not focusing on everything she had said. The letters and combinations had quickly become a dull buzzing as she talked.

"I asked," she started with her hands on her hips, "if my brother can come down, too. He wants to ask you something."

"Sure, he can," I answered, and she was gone. I looked to Margaret with a face full of shock, and she giggled in return.

"Marianne is a lot to handle for such a little girl, isn't she?" I nodded, unable to speak as I tried to recover from the little whirlwind. "She and her brother are twins, but he is much more quiet and shy than she is. She is usually quiet with people she first meets. I was surprised she was so open with you right off like that." She looked to the door Marianne had made her exit through, not expecting a comment from me, and turned back.

"Why don't we move into the family room where we would be more comfortable? I'm sure Joshua's question will bring forth much more talking from his sister, so we may as well be seated comfortably."

I nodded and followed her into the family room, the one I had seen to the left of the front door, and I sat in the cushioned chair while Margaret did the same on the large couch next to it. Adam joined us then, the sound of the front door opening throwing me into a half-standing position with my hand on my blade. He once again raised both hands to me—palms out—and gave me a small, understanding smile. I sat down slowly, taking deep, calming breaths as he moved to sit next to his wife.

"I apologize for startling you," he said softly. "I did not think to enter with caution." I nodded my acceptance and sighed softly.

"I must apologize, I think," I countered just as softly. "I should not be reacting as I am, but I cannot help it. I also believe I owe you an explanation as to my reactions, as well as why I am here."

"Neither is expected, but should you decide to, we will listen," he responded, and I nodded. Marianne had entered, and she had her brother's wrist in her hand. He looked reluctant, but she was not giving him the option of leaving. I found myself smiling at their antics.

Joshua looked like a male version of his sister, and they both had the same roundness in their faces that showed their young age. His eyes were downcast, and he kept them there even as Marianne ground to a halt in front of me and forced him to do the same.

"The lady's name is Isabella," she told her brother. "Ask her your question," she continued, putting her little fists on her hips expectantly. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, then looked back to his feet, then up to me for just a moment. I waited patiently, relaxing my tensed body in an effort to make him feel more comfortable talking to me. He finally spoke a few moments later, his voice low and hesitant.

"Can you . . . tell us a story?" he asked, his eyes shining with hope as he tried to keep the façade of nonchalance. I held back a smile.

"You want to hear a story?" I asked, my smile slowly winning the battle against my will to keep it hidden. "How do you know I have a story to tell?" Joshua shrugged once, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking at the floor.

"You have lots of rune scars, and someone said you looked like you came from far away. We only lived here. You do have stories, don't you?" His hope visibly grew, and I couldn't tease him any longer. I nodded and smiled, bringing a smile from the little boy in return. He sat down at my feet and Marianne did the same, both of them staring up at me expectantly. I saw Margaret and Adam lean back into the couch, getting comfortable for what I assumed they thought would be an interesting story. I decided to give them one.

"What do you know about vampires?" I asked quietly, and Marianne startled ticking off information on her fingers.

"They bite people, they have venom, they don't sleep, they don't get older, they're really fast and strong, and they're really pretty," she said quickly.

"Anything else?" I pressed, and Joshua spoke up.

"They kill people," he added solemnly, and I nodded.

"Let me tell you of one who doesn't. He was born in 1643 to a priest's wife, and his name is Carlisle . . ."


	15. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14: 1862_

_Galveston, Texas_

"Wow!" Joshua cried out in shock. "I don't believe it. I think you're making it up." He crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a disbelieving look. I had just finished telling them about Carlisle's life from the point I first met him until his mission to become a doctor, and I could only laugh at his reaction.

"Who is supposed to be telling the story, here?" I asked in return. He just huffed and turned his head away from me. Marianne pushed his shoulder.

"I believe it!" she announced with a hand on her hip. She was sitting on her knees, and Joshua was cross-legged. He caught himself before he fell to the side and glared at his sister.

"That's 'cause you believe everything good," he rebutted with a roll of his eyes. "You're a girl. Everything good is true for girls." I chuckled quietly at their bickering. It was a nice change of pace from . . . well, it was a nice change of pace.

"Believing in good is not a bad thing, Joshua," I said softly when the siblings only sat in front of me glaring at each other with their arms crossed stubbornly. "Sometimes you need to believe in a little good to get over the bad." I stopped the train of thought my sentiment brought up before it could hit, but I could see from the looks Adam and Margaret were giving me that I hadn't caught it soon enough. They showed pity and sadness, but I looked away without acknowledging their emotions. I couldn't, not while the children were in the room. They may have been Nephilim, but they were still young. The horrors of the world could wait until they were older.

"I guess," Joshua mumbled reluctantly. "It still sounds girly, though."

"No, it's not!" Marianne said sharply, but Margaret cut in before the argument continued.

"That's enough, you two. This is not the way to behave in front of guests," she chided, and both of them looked at the ground.

"Both of you can have your own opinions. They don't have to be the same," I added.

"What if I think his opinion is dumb?" Marianne added, her voice snarky. I had to hold back a laugh, but a small smile escaped.

"Then that is your opinion," I answered. "But some opinions are better left unsaid, like that one." She sighed loudly and Adam put a hand over his mouth to hide a smile.

"Off to the library with you two," Margaret said. "You are supposed to be studying your runes, so get to it. You got a break, so no complaining." Both of them got up and dragged their feet as they walked out, turning to look back at me for help. I just put my hands up and shrugged helplessly before they walked out and the door drifted shut behind them.

The click of the door closing seemed to be a switch, turning me back into the tense, anxiety-ridden woman I had walked in as. Feeling Adam and Margaret's eyes on me did not help my fight against my paranoia. I kept repeating "They won't hurt me, they won't hurt me" in my head, but nothing helped. I closed my eyes tightly as their faces turned to looks of worry and inhaled so much that my chest physically hurt. Letting it out as slowly as I could through my mouth, I tried to force my hands from the fists they had bunched themselves into. Luckily, Adam and Margaret seemed to know to stay quiet until I was ready.

"I . . . I'm sorry," I ground out, flashes of faces appearing before my eyes. A young girl drained of blood, her body left on her family's doorstep . . . a baby boy stolen from his bassinet as his parents slept in the next room . . . a new husband beheaded as he worked . . . each death or disappearance the result of a monster out of human nightmares.

My worst nightmare, the one that had haunted me for the past hundred years and continued to this day, was the death of a little girl. She had died by my own hand when I was trying to save her. Her mother and father had recruited me to help them get their daughter back from a warlock who had kidnapped her, but they had been severely injured during the fighting. Both survived, but my overconfidence had caused the girl's death. I still remembered her round face, framed by light blonde hair and lit by bright blue eyes . . . blue eyes that had looked at me with despair as the life passed from them. I had relied on my shield to protect her, not knowing the true threat to her life was not physical but magical, and the spell had already been set to activate with just a snap of the warlock's fingers. I refused to back down in order to save her, thinking I was able to protect her from whatever he planned, but . . . I hadn't known . . . I didn't know . . .

"I didn't know," I whispered, the words cracking as they broke from my throat. "I didn't know . . . I didn't mean it . . . I didn't know," I kept repeating, seeing her parents' anguished faces as they awoke to hear of their daughter's demise. I had told them what happened, how I thought I was able to protect her when I confronted the warlock, and I took complete responsibility for what happened. I left the town that same day and never looked back.

"Isabella, you're okay," a female voice said softly. "You are safe here, Isabella. Talk to me sweetheart. Tell me what you see." I shook my head viciously. I couldn't say it. I wouldn't say it. I couldn't live through it again.

"Please breathe, Isabella," the voice implored. Something brushed against my head, and I flinched back. It happened again, but this time it stayed against the side of my head, almost as though whatever it was was comforting me.

"Hush now. Please breathe, Isabella." Once again, a woman spoke in my ear. Her voice . . . it sounded familiar. I knew who it was, but . . . I couldn't place it.

"Hush. You are safe with us, my dear. You are safe. Focus on my voice, Isabella. Focus on me, not what you are seeing."

_Margaret_ . . . I thought, finally able to put a name to the voice. Her face came to the front of my mind, erasing the image of the little girl's dead face.

A soft keening sound met my ears as a vibration grew in my chest. I felt my knees pressed against the hard wood floor, the coolness like an anchor keeping me from drifting back into my memory. A smell like fresh flowers enveloped me as a hand caressed the side of my face not held in the other. My breathing hitched as the keening slowly died down, and my body collapsed against Margaret's. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and laid her cheek against the top of my head humming as she rocked me back and forth.

"There she is," she whispered. "She's back now." Another hand rested on my back while an arm squeezed under my legs, removing me from Margaret's embrace and picking me up. I was set down on the couch so that I was laying down, and Adam and Margaret sat on the table across from me, which they dragged right up to the side of the couch.

"Are you alright, Isabella?" Margaret asked softly, holding one of my hands in both of hers. I thought about that question for a moment, not sure myself. Despair, anger, humiliation, and self-hatred were all floating around in my mind. I shrugged slightly in response.

"I don't know," I finally said. "I don't know if 'alright' is possible for me."

"What do you mean?" Adam asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. "You are young, Isabella. How can you have such a negative look on life already?" I couldn't help the dark laugh that escaped when he said that.

"I have not been young, either physically or mentally, for a very long time, Adam. Long enough to know the evils of this world and that many of them hide behind good. I fruitlessly wish for the innocence of youth every day, even as my own conscience laughs at me for doing so," I explained, closing my eyes and forcing myself to relax against the couch. Both my mind and my body felt drained, like speaking would push me into unconsciousness.

"How old are you, Isabella, if you are not as you seem?" Margaret asked.

Even though I just told her I was not who everyone saw me as, she still had no hint of wariness in her voice. I questioned everyone and everything I saw, no matter how much or how little contact I had with them. That was who I was. A person who did not even trust her own eyes to tell her what she was seeing right in front of her. A person who barely trusted her instincts in fear of someone controlling her without her knowledge. I truly did wish I could be like Margaret and so many other people in the world who could go through life without thinking everything and everyone was trying to harm them.

"I stopped counting a while ago, but I was born in London in 1492," I said, my eyes still closed. The silence that followed my statement was expected, and so was the question that followed.

"How can that be?" Adam asked as Margaret said, "This is not a time for humor, Isabella." A small smile graced my face.

"I wish I could say I was not being truthful, but I cannot. I was born to Charles and Renee Swan of London, England, on September 17, 1492. I was married at age fifteen to a thirty-year-old man by the name of George Smith, and I had a daughter named Mary only weeks later." I paused a moment, my throat threatening to close with the memory of my grief, and Margaret used the time to ask a question.

"Oh, you had a child?" she asked dreamily, and I opened my eyes to see her hands clasped before her chest. "I imagine she grew into a beautiful young woman."

"She never had the chance," I responded softly, my eyes heating up with tears. "She died, along with the rest of my family. My mother, father, husband, and daughter all died the same day I gained immortality." Her face told me she was going to ask how and why if I did not elaborate, so I continued.

"Our village was full of Nephilim—as well as a few humans—but this was before our kind had established many schools. They are all over the world now, but we were quite fractured back then. Parents were in charge of their child's knowledge of our world and their physical ability to function and survive within it. This was how I lived until a pack of Lycan ambushed us around sunset and killed everyone but me. I don't know why I survived, but I was bitten severely on my shoulder. The mix of the Lycan bite and my Nephilim blood somehow gave me enhanced abilities, immortality, and the ability to activate runes by only drawing them in my mind. I had three runes drawn on me at the time I was attacked, and now they never fade." I stopped and found my hand rubbing the wounded shoulder, the tips of my fingers tracing the groove left in my flesh.

"I've been alive and alone ever since, except for the few people I have allowed myself to get close to," I finished as I looked back up at the ceiling. Margaret gasped softly, and I heard Adam rub her back comfortingly.

"Was that story true?" Adam asked. "The one you told the children about the golden-eyed vampire?" I nodded once.

"Yes, actually. I met him in London in 1663, where he was being attacked by a coven of vampires. Everything in that story was what happened back then."

"Then what have you been doing since he left?" Margaret asked, her eyes showing pity for my loneliness.

"Moving from town to town," I answered vaguely. "I had a vision that occurred here, so I've been travelling until I finally made it. I'm supposed to find someone, but I heard an interesting rumor along the way." I looked at them expectantly, and Adam sighed.

"Men from the town have been disappearing when they sail out to catch fish. Many of the families here rely on fish trade to live, but something has been happening out there for about two months now," he said sadly.

"That's what I heard before I crossed the Oklahoma-Texas border. I had to come here anyway, so I decided to investigate, if possible," I continued, nodding at their confirmation of what I already knew.

"Do you think you can handle whatever is doing this if you are able to find out?" Adam asked skeptically, and I gave him a small, sad smile.

"I like to think that, with all of the monsters and creatures I have fought and negotiated with, that I can and will find out what is going on here and stop it," I responded strongly, even as my mind seemed to groan at the prospect of another battle.

"What have you fought, if I may ask? I would feel safer knowing what you have handled if you were to pursue our attacker," Adam said, and with good reason. I could both see and feel the compassion these two people had, and I understood their concern for someone who looked only half their own age trying to fight something they could not even identify.

"Almost anything you can imagine," I countered. "In the past two hundred or so years? Murderous vampires, crazed werewolves, blood-thirsty Lycan, malevolent demons of all kinds, centaurs stealing women and children, wizards taking sacrifices, witches abducting young girls or trying to get revenge on someone else, but not caring who gets hurt in the process, bored merfolk, convincing dryads, confused ghosts, hungry ghouls, a raging chimera, a vengeful pegasus, a frightened herd of unicorns, angry dragons, irritated ogres and giants, moody trolls, curious elves, vicious shades . . . that's all I can think of at this moment," I finished, my face screwed up as I thought. Again, the silence following was expected, but the tapping on the family room window was not. I looked towards the sound to see a bright red form hovering just outside. The glass blurred his body, but I knew the form was Hermes. I went to stand up, but Margaret stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"He's my friend, Margaret," I explained. "Please let him in."

"He's . . . what is he?" Adam asked, staring at Hermes through the glass. I smiled, not quite genuinely, but closer than I had in a while.

"His name is Hermes, and he is a phoenix," I answered, my smile growing as their faces turned to ones of shock.

Both of them stood, and Adam went to the door. As soon as he opened it, Hermes flew in and made a beeline for me. He landed on the back of the couch and hopped from there onto my stomach, fluffing his feathers out and settling himself down. Margaret unconsciously leaned forward and Hermes spat threateningly, snaking his head at her and covering me with his wings. I gently put my hand on his back, clucking my tongue at him to get his attention. He turned his head to look at me and blinked once, but kept his wings out.

"They are friends," I said softly, moving my hand along his back. He chirped softly and lowered his wings, settling down again and humming softly as I continued to pet him. I smiled softly at the happy sounds he was making, soaking the heat of his body into me. He stayed away from me when I passed close or through towns, and I hadn't seen him for two days. I was just as happy to see him as he was to see me.

"Amazing," Adam whispered, his eyes on Hermes's content face. "How did you befriend such a creature as this?" I laughed softly, and Hermes poked me lightly in protest to the movement.

"I asked for a sign that what I was doing was worth it, that I had a reason to keep living when all I wanted was to get away from it all, and then I found Hermes," I answered.

"A young witch had lost her family to the Black Death, and she wanted to make the survivors pay. She lost everything and no one would help her, so she created a curse to bring back the disease so that it would kill those it failed to the first time. When I saw her and she said everything that happened, I knew she was beyond my help," I paused, my throat tightening as I told the story, but I pushed on.

"I took her life into my hands and ended it. She was miserable, and her grief and anger had driven her insane. Her curse completely took over. I killed her and burned the entire cottage down. She was not the first life I took as a Nephilim fighter, and she was not the last, but she was the one who made me ask myself 'why am I doing this?' I had been alone for one hundred and fifty years. I had fought and killed so many, and I knew it would never stop, not until I died. I pleaded with whoever would listen to give me some kind of sign, a sign that all of the fighting, blood, and death would be worth it in the end. Hermes popped up out of the ashes of the girl's house right afterward, and I've been fighting on since."

"Absolutely amazing," Adam said again as he shook his head. "You are truly a special young woman, aren't you?" I knew he did not expect a response, so I did not give him one. Hermes squawked in agreement, though, causing all of us to laugh. A yawn caught me off guard, and Margaret smiled softly.

"Why don't you rest now, dear, and we will speak again later," she murmured, reaching forward and brushing my hair back from my face. "Sleep and let the world turn without you for a few hours. I promise we will all still be here when you awaken."

I was asleep before I could respond.


	16. Chapter 15

_Chapter 15: The Song_

I woke up in a decent-sized bedroom with the sun high in the sky outside my open window. The white curtains were drawn back, the panes creating blocks of light on the hard wood floor. The duvet on the bed was as pure white as the curtains, almost startlingly bright in their cleanliness. An armoire stood, tall and sturdy, across the room from where I was laying, the brass knobs glinting in the light. Overall, the room was sparsely furnished, only the bed, nightstand, a rather hard-looking chair, and the armoire breaking the emptiness. No one seemed to have had lived in it for quite some time.

Slipping almost silently from under the blankets, I walked over to said chair—a simply cut wooden furnishing without any real decoration to the woodwork—and opened my bag, which had been set on it. Hermes was resting in the back of it, and cooed softly in greeting. I leaned forward and he pressed his head against my lips, making me smile and laugh quietly.

The feathers around his beak and eyes had lightened, belying the age his high level of energy hid so well. He would only live between five hundred and one thousand years before he would die and be reborn, but as soon as he hit five hundred that time could happen at any moment. He was only two hundred, but I still worried as it came closer and closer. His rebirth would not be instantaneous, but I was not exactly sure how long it would take. Phoenixes were not a species my parents had focused on when they had trained me, but I thought it was between five and seven days. To me, that translated to five to seven days of being completely alone. Again.

I shook myself of the thoughts and grabbed a fresh blouse and pair of trousers from my bag, removing those I had been travelling in and replacing them with the clean ones. Finding a wash basin in the bathroom, I washed my face of the sweat from the past few days. I guessed I had been asleep for an entire day plus a half, as the sun was well past place as it had been when I had fallen asleep on the couch. My brush was sitting at the top of my bag, so I ran it through my hair quickly and decided to find my way back to the kitchen. The burning sensation in the bottom of my stomach told me the meager meal I had had yesterday morning had long since disappeared. Hermes landed on my shoulder and fell right back to sleep as I opened my door and stepped out into the hall.

Immediate confusion swept over me as I looked first to my right, and then to my left. Both corridors looked exactly the same, with four rooms on both sides of the hallway going in both directions. The ends went in the same direction, giving me a hint that either would lead me to the front of the building eventually. I started walking to my left when rapid, light footsteps approached from behind me. I peeked into the future to see Joshua trying to take me by surprise and tackle my legs, so I waited until the last minute to turn away from him and use my momentum to spin all the way around, grabbing him by his ankle and lifting him up off the floor with one hand in a swift, smooth motion. Hermes had been displaced when I spun, and he resettled himself with an amused squeak when he looked at the young boy, whose eyes had grown wide with amazement and the pressure of blood rushing to his head. I couldn't help the smile on my face as I looked at the little "o" his mouth had become as he looked at my friend.

"Hermes, this little boy thought he could sneak up on me. What do you think of that?" I asked, turning my head and putting my free hand on my hip. He let out a laughing cough and shook out his feathers in amusement.

"Yes, my thoughts exactly," I laughed, looking back at Joshua who was now pointing at Hermes and trying to make words with his mouth. The latter was not working so well, seeing as though he was still silent.

"This is Hermes," I explained, pointing up at the bird. "He is a phoenix." Hermes squawked a greeting, and Joshua could only blink slowly in response. The boy seemed to shake off his shock, and he gestured widely with his hands.

"Wow!" he cried, and had he been standing upright, he would have had his hands thrown up over his head. I started laughing and had to gently lay him down on his back before I dropped him without thinking. He just laid there, staring up at me upside down, and his eyes would not stay still. I thought they would start hurting with how fast they were darting back and forth.

He suddenly jumped up from the floor and landed on his feet, a move I had not expected from him with how clumsily he had approached me only minutes before, and grabbed my hand. He positioned himself on the same side of me as Hermes, who looked calmly down at Joshua from his perch, and the boy dragged me off down the hall I had chosen. He chatted about all of the different species of birds he had seen, and his voice became a comforting buzz as I "oohed" and "wowed" in appropriate places. He did not seem to notice my lack of attention, and his innocence was a comfort.

"Miss Margaret asked me to see if you were awake yet," Joshua said, bringing me back to his conversation. "She is making supper, and she hoped you were awake so you could eat."

"You have very good timing, then," I responded, bringing a smile to his face. "I was just about to find my way back to the kitchen. Good thing you came along to show me the way." He squeezed my hand and gave a huge, face-breaking smile. I laughed and shook my head, moving my arm—and his—so that he was pressed against me.

"Where is your sister?" I asked curiously.

"She and the other girls are helping Margaret. The rest of the boys are washing up from training," he answered, and I nodded.

"I finished first, so she asked me to check on you," he finished proudly, his little chest puffing up. I stifled my laugh at the sight and ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, good for you. I'm very glad you rescued me from getting lost in this house," I praised, and I thought his chest would burst with how far it was sticking out. He let go of my arm and opened the door leading into the kitchen, gesturing with a hand and a small bow for me to enter before him.

"Why thank you, sir," I said haughtily, curtsying slightly as I passed through the door. He giggled quietly as I passed and ran ahead to pull out a chair. He repeated his gentlemanly gesture towards the chair, and I held up my index finger as I made my way towards the kitchen to check on their progress and see if they needed any help. Before I could even place my hand on the doorknob, Margaret's voice rang out from the room beyond.

"Don't you dare step foot in this kitchen, Isabella," she warned. "You just sit at that table, and we will be right out with the meal." I silently backed away from the door and sat in the chair Joshua was patiently waiting next to, and he pushed it in for me as I sat down. He jumped into the one next to me, crouching on the cushion until Margaret and the girls burst through the door. His rear end immediately met the chair cushion, and I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped.

"What was your worst injury?" Joshua asked curiously, his chin resting in his palms while his elbows rested on the dining room table. Margaret looked as though she were about to stop him, raising the wooden spoon she had been about to place in the bowl of cheese pasta, but I stopped her with a smile and a shake of my head.

"The one that affected me the most was my Lycan bite," I answered honestly. "It was my first major injury." I paused, squinting suspiciously at Joshua's round face.

"If you are looking for gross, gory details, young man, I do not think the dining table right before we eat is either the place or the time for it." He looked down guiltily, chancing a look at me before focusing on his lap once more. Margaret went back into the kitchen for something, and I leaned over the table conspiratorially.

"Wait until later," I whispered to him, and his face brightened immediately. I put my finger over my lips as I heard Margaret approach the door again, and he put on a sullen, disappointed look.

"Adam and I told them a small portion of what you told us yesterday," Margaret said hesitantly. "We were hoping to answer some of their questions before they attacked you with them, especially when they saw your friend there before we were able to move you into a room."

She gestured towards Hermes with a small wave of her hand before going back into the kitchen for a moment. Marianne and three other girls followed her out, each of them holding a dish of food to be placed on the table. Marianne's face broke into a wide grin when she saw me, and I smiled back. She ran to sit on my other side before the others, who looked more hesitant to approach as they took in my marked appearance and Hermes's intimidating form. His colors were brighter today with the heat of the sun he had been resting in, and the glow made him look as though he were swathed in dancing flames. He was, but the essence of the flames was encased in his feathers, allowing him to be touched unless he released them.

I reached up and petted his head as the other girls sat next to Marianne, as well as on the other side of the table at the same end. They visibly flinched as my skin came in contact with his body, and their jaws dropped when I did not immediately take my hand away in pain. I could see questions on all of their faces, and I couldn't help but smile in response. The fleeting thought of how much I had smiled—genuinely smiled—in the past two days crossed my mind, but I did not cling to it. I didn't want to ruin what already felt like a dream.

"Can I touch him?" Joshua asked quietly, even as he looked like he was about to jump up on his chair with how his body was trembling in anticipation. He glanced at the girls when he talked, like he expected them to say something, and when they did not, he looked back to me. He had a hardness, a coolness to his eyes that made me think he was not as outspoken as he had been with me around the others. Joshua from when I first arrived yesterday was back, the quiet, shy boy who did not even talk to Margaret or Adam very often, seeing as though they were the ones who told me he was like that. I knew differently now, and I decided to try and get the Joshua I had met this morning to come back.

"Yeah, can I pet him, too?" Marianne echoed, her eyes shining with hope as she leaned in closer to me.

"Ask him," I responded with a shrug. "If he lowers his head, he is saying you can. If he looks up, then he's saying no." I lifted my forearm for Hermes to step onto, and when he did, I brought him down so that he was in front of me. I petted his back and gave him a warning look, and he just ruffled his feathers in response, letting little embers fly like those of a popping campfire. The other boys—three more—entered at that moment and jumped in surprise at the sight before them. I smiled gently and Marianne released a beaming grin at them before she turned back to Hermes, who was waiting patiently for one of them to act.

"Can I pet you, pretty Hermes?" Marianne asked, and he turned his head to the side.

"Try handsome, Marianne," I advised. "He's a boy, so he doesn't like being called pretty." Her mouth made a little "o" of understanding, and she nodded enthusiastically.  
"I'm sorry. Can I pet you, _handsome_ Hermes?" she corrected, fluttering her eyelashes at him. He hesitated for a moment, being dramatic and soaking up the attention, before lowering his head.

She slowly brought her hand to the top of his head, touching him with only a finger before pulling away abruptly and squealing. I put a hand on Hermes's back to let him know nothing was wrong, and he shook his head at the ear-piercing sound. I laughed quietly and quickly pressed my lips to the top of his head. All of the children gasped again—except Joshua and Marianne, of course—but sighed in relief when nothing happened.

"He's so soft and warm!" she exclaimed, clapping loudly. She reached for him again and managed to pet his head before quickly withdrawing her hand once more as she giggled. Just as Joshua was about to speak, Hermes screeched loudly and the room before me disappeared.

_I was standing on the shore, staring out over a calm, clear ocean. The sun was setting slowly, the horizon waiting patiently for it to descend into its embrace. The sand beneath my feet was warm from the heat of the sun and constantly shifting as my weight pressed down on it. When I tried to look down at it, though, I was scared to find that I could not. My body would not respond to anything I tried to do._

_I was looking out over the calm water, watching . . . waiting . . . but for what, I did not know. I felt the need to be there at that time, but . . . why? Why was I there? What was I waiting for? Why couldn't I get myself to leave?_

_A soft humming met my ears, and the anxiety I had felt beginning to grow immediately dissipated. The sound was ethereal, so soft and light that I thought I was imagining it. The notes caressed my mind, lulling me into a sense of safety and security . . . a sound coming from the water rhythmically crashing and receding before me._

_I took a step forward, even as I shouted at myself not to. I took another . . . and another . . . and another until the water rushed up to my feet as it crashed. Looking down at the water, I gasped in shock and despair. Adam's face—completely devoid of emotion and life—stared back at me. He looked back up at the water and kept on walking until he was completely submerged, both the water and the song enveloping his body and bringing him to his death._

I broke from the vision with a gasp and immediately caught Margaret's eye. She was standing next to me with a concerned look on her face, her eyes examining mine after the change they just displayed. Darrel had told me a long time ago about how my eyes turned completely white and a symbol drew itself in the middle of them. He thought it strange, but he liked it.

"Where is Adam?" I asked harshly, my voice cracking like I had been screaming. Margaret jumped at the sound, but shook herself of her surprise.

"He should be heading home from the council meeting," she responded shakily. I stood up abruptly as she started to speak and raised Hermes up to my face.

"Go find Adam, Hermes," I pleaded as I brought him to the only window in the dining room. It happened to be right behind my chair, and I yanked it open with a hard pull upward. "Get him home. Keep him away from the water. I will be right behind you." He cawed in response and flew out the window, softly singing as he started his search.

I ran for my room as fast as I could, not holding back as I sprinted. Margaret was calling after me, but I only had minutes before Adam would walk straight into the ocean and to his death. I didn't have time to explain, and neither did he. I grabbed my belt and quickly put it on, the seraph blades and daggers clinking together as they swung back and forth, and danced around Margaret as I turned to avoid running straight into her.

"What's going on? What's wrong with Adam?" she yelled after me, but I kept running for the front door. I could feel her following me, but she was not nearly as fast as I was.

The front door crashed loudly against the wall as I flew through it, running straight for the council hall and the shore it sat near. I followed Hermes's cries through the town, their alarmed nature telling me he had found Adam. Running right passed the council hall, I almost tackled Adam to the sand. He fought my hold as I grabbed his forearms, keeping him from stepping further into the surf. We were up to our knees already, and my heart was pumping fiercely with both adrenaline and fear. I had an idea of what was calling Adam out into the water, and being in the water was not a good idea.

"Adam! Adam, what are you doing?" Margaret's voice called from the shoreline. She had stopped at the water's edge, confusion and worry all over her face. "Why are you in the water?"

He did not respond to her, his blank expression not flinching as he continued trying to walk away from me even with my grip on his arms. His main focus was reaching the source of the song in his head, a song that had hypnotized him to the point where his body was moving without him. If I looked hard enough, I could see a very small spark of Adam in his eyes, and he was fighting with all of his might to free himself.

"Hermes, sing!" I cried, and he immediately took up a calm, soothing melody as he circled around us.

"Focus on Hermes, Adam," I said as I tried to remain calm. "Focus on his song." I started chanting "_Liberare hic homo ab ties in suo corpora, liberare hoc homo a sui ligat_" under my breath, using magic in an attempt to free him from the creature's trap. My goal was to distract Adam's mind from the song around him and then have his body follow suit. As soon as I started chanting, though, I knew a fight was inevitable unless I could reason with the mermaid. I would not be running from this fight.


	17. Chapter 16

_Chapter 16: The Maiden_

"Young witch, why do you deny me my prey?" the mermaid asked. Her voice was haunting as it echoed through the water around us.

Her brunette head was just coming up out of the water, and the almond-shaped ocean blue eyes that found mine sent chills down my spine. She only rose up to just above her cleavage, her waist-length hair pooling in the water in front of her and obscuring her naked form from view. The wet strands framed a heart-shaped face with a straight, narrow nose, full lips, and slender neck. A strand of coral adorned her head, the colors ranging from a dull, dark green to a vibrant yellow with a pink-tinted shell standing in the middle over her forehead. I could see her tail—covered in small, reflective scales—extending down about five to six feet into the water, the fin like a large paddle keeping her straight up in the water as it moved slowly back and forth. I could tell she was very young, even for a mermaid. If I were to guess, she would only have just reached adulthood.

"He is no prey of yours," I said, trying to simultaneously keep up my chant in my head. She smiled softly and watched me through half-lidded eyes, trying to lower my guard.

"Oh? I have chosen him, and he has fallen under the spell of my song, just as all the others before him," she responded. "Why do you protect him so? Is he _your_ toy?"

Her comment brought to light her true reason for preying on the men of Galveston: mating. Mermaids had the option of mating with either mermen or human men, using a glamour to create a human female body that actually allow the mermaid to become pregnant even in a form that is not hers. When she would remove the glamour, her state of pregnancy would not change. The children were always born as merfolk, but the catch for human males was that they always died in the end, mostly from drowning. Because of the trance the song put them in, the men would think nothing of the burning in their lungs from lack of oxygen, and they would drown. If not this way, their death would come from the mermaid's own hands. A simple twist of the head once their fun was over, and so was the life of the victim.

"He is no more mine than he is yours," I retorted authoritatively. "He already belongs to a woman, and they have a family together."

I hated the way I phrased my explanation, but I had to put the situation in terms the mermaid would understand. Females of their race were the dominant ones, so had I said Adam already had a wife, I would make Margaret seem like an inappropriate mate to him in the creature's eyes. Doing so guaranteed nothing as far as her leaving us alone was concerned, but it would not hurt the situation.

"She let him roam free!" the mermaid exclaimed. "She does not deserve a mate as nice as he if she cannot keep track of him. I will be a _better_ mate."

Her song increased in intensity, and I could feel the pressure it was exerting on my spell. I started chanting it out loud again, matching my voice to hers as I closed my eyes and concentrated as hard as I could. My eyes warmed with the activation of my shield rune as I put it over the two of us, trying to lessen the effects of the mermaid's song in any way I could and causing the rune to draw and redraw itself over and over as I kept it going. She started swimming closer, reaching up with one hand and beckoning Adam forward, and he fought me even more. With my enhanced strength I hadn't exerted much effort earlier, but now I actually had to stand in front of him and act as a wall. I was not tall enough to block his sight of the creature behind me, but the fleeting thought gave me an idea.

The entire time I had been talking to the mermaid . . . _she_ _hadn't_ _blinked_. She had half-closed her eyes, but she had yet to close them. I knew from my studies that mermaids needed to focus and concentrate on their target to keep the human in a trance, but so much time had passed since my last encounter—which had been much quicker and easier to handle than this one—that I had forgotten. Also, her ability to look at and talk to me while mentally keeping up with her song had driven my mind away from the information. Now I just had to find a way to break her concentration and get her to blink.

Keeping up my chant, I focused on the shape of my shield and molded it around Adam and myself. Changing my focus to the section between my back and the mermaid, who was now only about ten feet from us, I turned around and opened my eyes, trying to use their appearance to startle her. I got the emotional result I wanted, but her eyes stayed open. My body was starting to shake with exertion as I pushed my shield down into the water and forward, creating a wave that crashed into her so hard, she was thrown under the water and flipped numerous times before coming to rest almost back where she had first appeared.

As soon as the water hit her, Adam slumped against me, his entire weight on my shoulders as his mind was released. His breathing was rough and fast as he laid there, his mind and body trying to catch up with the other, and I wrapped an arm around his waist and held him to me as the mermaid swam straight at me, anger fueling her already powerful movements. I turned so that I was between an unconscious Adam and the angered maiden and grabbed a seraph blade from my belt.

"Castiel," I called softly, watching the blade glow and grow from the corner of my eye. I did not want to kill one so young, but if she attacked either one of us, I would have no choice.

"You will _not_ take _my_ prey!" she cried, jumping up out of the water with her fingers extended like claws.

I fought against her weight as it pushed the hilt of my blade back towards me when she slammed into it, skewering herself through the chest. She did not have time to even gasp before the light in her eyes faded out and her body fell back into the ocean where it immediately disintegrated into a huge group of little bubbles that were quickly swallowed by the sea foam. My arm fell to my side, barely holding onto the blade my hand still held, and I watched in numb fascination as the waves washed the ruby blood from the stark white of the blade.

"Isabella?" Margaret called from the shore, her voice shaking with worry.

I could only imagine what she must have been thinking, seeing her husband slumped motionless over a girl half his size, standing in knee-high water with a blade in her hand that she had just used to kill a mermaid. She had watched the entire event—she had followed me all the way there—but her husband was not moving after almost being taken and killed.

I turned as much as I could towards her, Adam's body growing heavier and heavier as my exhaustion grew. My knees started giving out and my arm was falling from Adam's waist when a group of men I hadn't noticed on the beach came running forward to help us. I faintly recognized a few of them from the day I arrived, but I was unconcerned with their names at that point. I dropped my seraph into the surf at my feet—my hand dropping it more than me consciously—and sighed softly but shakily. My eyes were fighting to close and my knees to fall to the sea floor as the men juggled Adam from my arms to theirs. Their efforts made me realize I still had my shield up, and I immediately released it. The looks in the eyes of the men—from caution and hesitance to awe and respect—were also explained with its presence. I closed my eyes to the burning sensation in them, slightly uncomfortable and a little painful, and put the heels of my hands to them in an attempt to ease it.

"Are you alright, miss?" a male voice asked. Whoever he was did not touch me, for which I was grateful. The pain in my eyes was new; I had never had them hurt after using one of my permanent runes. It was making me uneasy.

"I am fine," I ground out. "We need to get Adam back to his house and let Margaret heal him." I felt him move away with the displacement of the water and sighed again as the pain in my eyes began to ease.

All of a sudden, something wrapped around my ankle and yanked hard, pulling me off my feet and into the water as I grabbed at the sand under me in an attempt to stop my movement out towards the ocean. The only thing I was able to grab was solid, but it moved with us as I was carried away. I heard someone scream as I was submerged and the sound of crashing water as someone else tried to catch me, but my captor was too fast.

The thing's grasp disappeared after a few seconds, letting me drift in the rhythm of the waves as I tried to get my bearings once more. I opened my eyes and almost released the little breath I had left because of the intense burning. From my quick glance, I thought I was about twenty feet or so below the surface. Just the thought of swimming up that far against the ocean current made my body pulse with exhaustion and pain. I was drained after the fight with the young mermaid, and I did not know how I was going to get back or fight whatever had brought me out to sea in the first place.

I felt myself start moving up towards the surface as I floated, but when I could feel the sun's light getting stronger as I continued, I would suddenly be pulled down again. My lungs were burning by the time I was pulled down for the second time, and any thought of using my shield to save myself died as soon as I tried to mentally touch the rune. I couldn't even feel it.

Something grabbed me again, but this time it used my body to drag itself through the water until we were face to face. Through my burning, squinting eyes, I saw a face eerily similar to that of the now-dead mermaid. She was flushed, and her eyes were red and puffy. The only difference between the two was that the one before me now was older.

Oh, no.

Her hand wrapped around my neck and slowly tightened until her nails dug painfully into my skin. I couldn't even lift my free hand and try to get her off of me because I was so exhausted. She grinned sadistically and started swimming farther down into the water, knowing I was drowning. Black spots were appearing before my eyes as my arms drifted upward from our movement, a glint from my seraph blade catching my attention. From where it was floating—next to the maiden's chest and aimed right at her heart—I only needed one strong thrust. Just one, and I would be free of her. Even if I died here in the ocean, I would not die at the hands of a monster.

I concentrated all of the energy I had left into my right arm, relaxing the rest of my body to get as much as I could. I would only have one shot to wound her, kill her if I was lucky. She seemed to drop her guard when she felt my body loosen, and I took that as my last shot. Suddenly tensing my arm, I shot it forward with all my might. I met resistance immediately, but only for a moment as the blade broke through her skin and pierced her heart, dying the water around us a sickening red. She thrashed around for a few moments before the movement ceased.

I closed my eyes as flames burned hotter and hotter in my chest. The seraph blade shrank back to its original size as my energy flagged, bringing me in and out of consciousness even as my mind kept telling me what was happening. I knew the last of my breath left me in a small stream of bubbles escaping from my partially open mouth. I knew the mermaid's body had dissolved just as the first one's had. I knew I was still floating quite a distance below the surface. I knew something—or someone—was swimming towards me. I knew they grabbed me around the waist and tugged me to the surface with them, swimming on his back and resting me on top of his chest. I knew when we broke the surface, as I immediately inhaled as deeply as I could and caused my chest to spasm with pain and shock at the influx of air. My rescuer was murmuring as he continued swimming, bringing us towards shore as the waves helped move us along, but I could not focus long enough to understand him. My main concern at that moment was breathing.

Shouting invaded my conscience, bringing me out of my black out for a moment. I could tell it was a woman and that something had her very worried, but I did not care what. The constant heartbeat under my ear, the rhythm of the waves crashing, my erratic breathing, all of these things were lulling me into a sense of carelessness. I had no needs, no wants, no desires . . . I just _was_.

Someone grabbed me from my rescuer's chest by the armpits, lifting me up into their arms and carrying me somewhere. My head bounced around against him as he ran, and my hair blew back from my face. I heard Hermes's distressed cries from overhead and felt the heat of his agitated form as he flew as close to me as he could. I passed out again as the man holding me started slowing down, my awareness fading to nothing.

Margaret

I was scared. I screamed. I screamed until my voice went silent as Isabella was dragged out into the ocean. My husband was safe. Ralph had taken him from Isabella, and David spoke to her. She was rubbing her eyes like she was in pain. She shook her head . . . she sighed . . . and then she was gone. Only a ripple showed where she had been standing not a moment before.

The men who had run out to her and Adam dove down to grab her, but they were too late. They looked for her in the water, moving farther and farther into the water, but saw no sign of her. I watched in horror from the shore for any kind of movement in the waves, anything to even hint at where she was, but I saw nothing. Ralph silently stood next to me holding a dripping Adam, but I could feel the tension and frustration he was hiding.

The children were openly sobbing as they clung to my skirts, but I could do nothing to comfort them. In the little time Isabella had spent with us, she had touched both of them, brought them out of their shells long before they had with anyone else. For them to watch as that person was taken away from them, especially in such a way as she was, would leave them scarred for a long time.

But I could do nothing. I could not help Isabella. I could not help the children. I could not help the men still looking for her. Adam only needed rest. I could not give him that. I could not do anything.

All of a sudden, something disturbed the water about two hundred feet out. I only saw it for a moment, but I immediately pointed and cried out. Every person on the shoreline reacted, either just turning in that direction or moving out towards it. I watched anxiously, waiting for the next sign of movement, but the spot of scarlet threw my heart into my stomach.

"No, n-no, no," I chanted, my voice cracking. Marianne was wailing on the ground next to me, just laying there crying into the sand. Joshua had gone quiet except for his labored breathing, but my dress continued to dampen. I managed to get my hand on his back, holding his quivering form against me, but my body refused to respond afterward.

A young man ran past all of us and plunged into the sea, heading straight for the growing blot of red amongst the surf. I held my breath as he came up out of the water and then dove, hoping and praying that he would not come up alone. My lungs started burning as we continued to wait, and I could not take in a breath even as he broke the surface with Isabella.

The blond boy backstroked until he reached the men waiting in the water, who promptly took Isabella from him. David held her against his chest, one arm around her back and the other under her knees, and ran her back to the school. I grabbed Joshua and Marianne and followed after him, Ralph doing the same with Adam. I heard the others checking on the boy—a _human _boy—but I couldn't make out what exactly they said to him after I took off.

We ran straight into the building, the door swinging open before us as the children who had stayed behind cleared a path. Hermes flew in over David's head and led him to Isabella's room. I hadn't gotten a good look at her, but I did notice the infrequent drops of blood that fell from her body. Ralph called for someone to find a cot as I rounded the corner and went into Isabella's room.

I almost cried out at the sight of her laying on top of the bed, her body soaking wet, but she was not shivering. I couldn't see her chest moving with breaths. She was bleeding slightly from a large gash in her right side, and the crimson liquid was starting to pool next to and under her.

She needed help. I knew what to do. I could do something. I could help her.


	18. Chapter 17

_Chapter 17: Margaret_

Isabella slept for two days after the attack. Marianne and Joshua refused to leave her side, and so did Adam after he finally woke up. He was only out for about twelve hours, and as soon as I told him what happened, he became a permanent fixture in Isabella's room. I had to force him to let me check him over to make sure he was okay.

The children slept on either side of Isabella that first night as well as the next, and Hermes laid on her abdomen. I brought food to them, as they would only leave if they had to use the bathroom, and they barely spoke the entire time. The only time Adam talked after refusing to let me check him was when he was coming back from the bathroom and I was standing in the doorway.

"_She is an amazing woman, isn't she?" Adam said softly as his arms wrapped around my stomach from behind._

"_Mmm," I agreed nodding my head slowly. "I cannot imagine having to go through what she has. I just don't understand one thing . . ." I trailed off and let him decide if he wanted to hear what I had to say._

"_And what is that?" he responded, kissing the side of my head. I watched the faces of the children sleeping next to Isabella, two children who wanted nothing to do with anyone they did not know, and tilted my head so that my head was resting against his cheek._

"_What is it that makes people like her? Makes people _want_ to like her?" I asked, exasperated. Adam shrugged._

"_She is an old soul," he answered. "Maybe it is because she has been through almost everything a person can, human or not. She has seen and experienced so much by herself that maybe she calls out to others, tries to get people to break down those walls for her. Maybe she has forgotten how on her own. There is something very trustworthy about her, and yet she seems to plead with people to be worthy of _her_ trust." He paused for a moment before continuing again._

"_No one in this village let alone this house would have trusted an outside as quickly or as much as we do her. Neither one of those kids would have walked up and spoken to a stranger without being spoken to first, nor would they have started speaking as comfortably as they do. The men who came to help her? None of them would have even _thought_ about going in after someone they had only seen for minutes a few days before. I can see how you would question her. I would like to know myself."_

_I sighed in response. I was glad I was not alone in my questioning, even if the answers made no difference to me. If she needed help or somewhere to stay, I would not deny her, and neither would Adam._

"You are thinking, Maggie. What about?" Adam asked with concern on his face. He was sitting in his chair, but he was turned to the side. I gave him a small smile.

"Our conversation before," I answered. "Nothing, really."

"Have you come to any conclusions?" he probed. I shrugged.

"Not really. I don't know what to think about all of this. All I am certain of is that as long as she needs us, we should be there for her." He nodded in response.

"I agree. From what she has told us, everyone she became friends with has either died or been left behind because of her travels. She needs to have someone she can lean on, even if she will not admit it."

Before I could respond, Hermes lifted his head from beside Isabella's and cooed softly. She inhaled and released the breath, flinching when she inhaled too deeply. Her eyes fluttered open, and her mouth formed a small, strained smile when she saw her old friend. She struggled to lift her hand to touch him, and Hermes moved his head down to her. I slowly walked forward, giving her time to notice my approach, and she sighed again when she did.

"How do you feel?" I asked quietly, sitting in Adam's temporarily vacated chair.

"Tired," she responded, her voice breathy. I offered her a glass of water and let her drink for a few moments. She flinched from the stiffness in her side, but said nothing. She thanked me after I pulled it away, and I nodded in response.

"You were slashed across your right side," I explained gently. "I already healed it, but the muscles are still tight. Just a little stretching and you should be back to normal."

"What about Adam?" she questioned, her face tightening with worry and fatigue. I gave her a large smile.

"I'm just fine, don't you worry," Adam answered from behind me, leaning on the back of the chair. "I do owe you thanks, though. Margaret told me what happened."

"You owe me nothing, Adam," she retorted, but her attempt at seriousness fell flat from her weariness. She was about to speak again when someone knocked on the door. Adam went to answer, and I smiled at Isabella again.

"He and the children have not left your side since . . . that day," I said, not wanting to bring up what had happened again. I nodded my head towards Joshua and Marianne, who were still sleeping soundly, each with an arm thrown over her and a grip on the sheets with the other. She looked at each of them and smiled softly. That look brought such beauty to her face after seeing her so tense and serious all the time.

"I've brought food to them and they've only left to go to the bathroom," I finished, and she laughed silently.

"They are good kids," she commented, and Hermes cooed again. "You are, too, Hermes," she huffed, and he ruffled his feathers proudly. We were quiet for a moment, but Isabella broke it.

"I assume you know what happened to me before I ran out of here," she stated, and I nodded.

"I've guessed, but I think I am close," I clarified. "You had a vision of what was going to happen to Adam." She looked at me with a pleased smile. "I recognized the rune as one of the forgotten. We teach the children about them and how their use has died to the point where no one remembers how to draw them in order to get them to work."

"I was not aware that you still taught them," Isabella commented. "I thought their presence in lessons had died with their use." Before I could comment, Hermes flew out the partially open window and Adam came in with our guest.

He had blonde hair that was slightly long, hanging it just above his ears, and his young face was sharply angled. He had what looked like battle scars on his hands, but I could not see his arms because of his sleeves to tell how far up the marks went. Smartly dressed, he wore the uniform of the Confederate Army. The long coat stopped just below his knees, and fourteen shiny brass buttons glinted in the dying sunlight coming in the window. His short collar was adorned with three brass stars on either side of the neck opening, and his cuffs were a dark blue, contrasting the light grey of the rest of the coat. I stood as soon as I saw the stars signifying an Army Major, but he waved me back into my seat.

"Please, ma'am, no need to get up on my account," he said, bowing slightly. His eyes turned to Isabella, and his face grew slightly more serious.

"I apologize for intrudin', ma'am. I know you're restin', but I wanted to see you if you were awake before we go off for trainin'," he explained, bowing his head slightly in apology.

"Is it safe to assume that you were my rescuer?" Isabella asked in rebuttal, and the Major nodded once before placing his hand at his brow in a salute.

"Confederate Army Major Jasper Whitlock, ma'am," he introduced. I noticed Isabella fighting a smile at the formality, and she managed to hold it back long enough to introduce herself.

"Miss Isabella Swan," she responded, nodding her head once. "You are quite young to hold such a title, if I am not mistaken." He nodded.

"I have a military family, ma'am. I knew what I was gettin' myself into."

"That would explain it, sir," she commented, a sly look on her face.

"Please ma'am, call me Jasper," he said, shifting from foot to foot.

"Only if you call me Isabella, Jasper," she countered, and he shook his head with a shy smile on his face.

"I can do that, ma-Isabella."

"Good catch," she laughed and cringed when the movement aggravated her side. The sight of Isabella in pain made Jasper serious again.

"I was wondering if I could ask you something about what happened. I promise it will be quick, and then I will be on my way," he asked hesitantly.

"I cannot promise an answer. Sometimes it is safer to know only what you think you saw than the truth," she warned.

"I have been wonder ever since, so I thought I would give it a shot," Jasper shrugged. Isabella nodded for him to go on.

"I was taking a walk on the shore when I saw your group and someone taking Mr. Platt from you. I saw something take you into the water. She looked normal, but . . . I know she wasn't. I just don't know what was wrong," he explained.

"Jasper, what have you been telling yourself about that day?" Isabella asked, and I could see exactly where she was going with that question. I felt bad, but I trusted her judgment to know what was safe for him, especially being a human.

"Someone dragged you inta the water. You were attacked by an animal in the water, something that could swim like a person, but had a tail instead of legs. You killed it and almost drowned," he explained slowly, his doubt obvious.

"I was dragged into the water by someone in town. I was pulled out to sea by the current, and an animal attacked me. I managed to scare it off, but I was wounded and too tired to get myself back to the surface. You dove in after and brought me back to shore," Isabella said seriously. Jasper looked at her for a moment, shock and mild disappointment on his face. He looked like he was going to ask more, but decided otherwise.

"Well, okay. The tide brought you out and you were attacked," he said, looking for clarity. Isabella nodded. He had more questions, that much was obvious, but he kept them to himself.

"I suppose that's all I wanted ta know," he mumbled slowly. "I'll leave ya to get yer rest now." Jasper stood and took Isabella's hand, being careful not to disturb Joshua, who was still sleeping on that side. "I wish ya well, Isabella, and stay away from the water for a while, will ya?" he chuckled, kissing the top of her hand afterward. Isabella laughed softly, wary of her strained muscles.

"I don't plan to go swimming again for quite some time," she responded. "Thank you for going in after me, though. I will repay you somehow."

"Ah, don' worry yourself about it, Isabella. The honor was mine," he countered, bowing over her hand and making a sweeping motion with his own. He gave her once last smile before walking back to Adam and myself.

"I'll be leavin' now, Mr. Platt. Got to go train. Can't win a war without practice first, huh?" Jasper and Adam shook hands, and the young man turned to me.

"Nice meetin' ya, ma'am. I'm glad you were able to help Miss Isabella." He took my hand and kissed the back. I gave him a warm smile and inclined my head slightly.

"And you, as well, Mister Jasper," I responded. He gave me a questioning look, but seemed to realize why I said that. He gave Isabella a chagrined smile, and she only shook her head, sighing softly.

Adam escorted Jasper to the front door and returned quickly, getting on his knees at the side of the bed. He took Isabella's hand in both of his and gently pressed his forehead against it, his body trembling slightly. She seemed slightly shocked at his actions, but she kept quiet. Her face took on a serene, understanding look as she kept her gaze on him. Adam sat like that for a few minutes before pulling back again, his eyes tightly shut.

"You're welcome, Adam," Isabella whispered, and his body shook in response. He finally managed to compose himself just as Anna came into the room with Abigail, who looked wide awake and ready to attack. Her little fists were waving around as she tried to wiggle herself out of the young girl's arms, so I reached up and took my rambunctious daughter into my lap.

"Good morning, pretty Abby," I cooed, and she giggled.

"Mom-mom-mom," she said without pause, and I chuckled into her neck. She squealed and tried to push me away. I stood up and put her on my hip.

"Miss Abby, I want you to meet someone," I said, and she put on a curious look. Turning so that she could see, I pointed to Isabella. "This is Isabella." My baby girl giggled and held her hands out towards Isabella.

"She can't hold you right now, baby. She's tired and needs to sleep," I explained, and Abby looked at her sadly.

"Seepy?" she asked, and Isabella nodded, yawning for good measure. Abby turned back to me and put a finger over her lips. I did the same to myself and nodded enthusiastically. Isabella was fighting sleep as I did so, her eyelids drooping down as she started falling asleep again, so I touched Adam on the shoulder and pointed to the door. He nodded and stiffly followed me out, his eyes puffy and red.

Adam took Abigail from me and kissed all over her face, making her squeal again. He smiled at the sound, and so did I. I brushed a hand through Abigail's soft, light brown hair and Adam hugged me to his other side. We stood like that for a minute or so, holding each other while thinking of what almost wasn't. I understood the pain Adam was feeling, knowing that he was almost killed. I also understood that, had it not been for the stranger in the room we just left, I would be without my husband, the school without its leader, and my daughter without her father. By doing what she did, Isabella kept my family whole.

One of the children must have woken up because she whispered something briefly before silence emanated from the room once more. I looked up at Adam to find him already gazing down at me with the ghost of loss and pain. I reached up and brushed my hand across his cheek, giving him an anchor to bring him out of his thoughts. He blinked once and kissed my forehead, his eyes clear but still not those of my Adam.

"She said she came because of the rumor," I mumbled, and he laughed tightly.

"Good thing she did." I nodded. A moment of silence passed.

"Now what?" I asked.

"We keep going just as we have . . . give her a home as long as she wants it . . . let her move on if she decides to do so . . . and we prepare for the fighting. With the war, we are bound to have a battle, at least nearby if not here." He paused. "We just keeping going."


	19. Chapter 18

_Chapter_ _18: Jasper_

_Three Months Later . . ._

"Happy new year, my fellow soldiers," Major General John Magruder announced to the waiting regiment. "I know we want to celebrate, so we will celebrate by winning back our city! Galveston will be under the control of Union swine no more after this day. Let us celebrate with a victory for the Confederacy!" The soldiers cheered in response, and I stayed quiet.

I was standing behind the Major General, watching the men before me and looking for any signs of hesitancy or doubt, anything that could possibly harm our chances of victory, no matter how small. It was my job as Major to make sure my men were ready—both mentally and physically—for an upcoming fight, and I was to either remedy the problem or alert the Major General if I could not. So far, I had always quelled any doubt or worry of my men without having to report them. Some thought me a rat because of my job, but for the sake of the Confederacy, I would do anything. No one was going to get in the way of our victory if I could prevent it.

"Dis-_missed_," Major General Magruder barked, and the men saluted in response before walking off.

"Be ready by high noon," he said gruffly, clasping his hands behind his back as he watched his soldiers return to their stations.

"Sir, yes, Sir," I answered, putting my hand to my brow before heading back to my tent.

I sighed as I placed my cap on the desk, running a hand through my hair as I looked over the map lying in front of me. The Major General, the General, and I had gone over and over every border of Galveston, trying to predict each and every possible attack and counter attack. We decided to prepare for the worst-case scenario: a land and sea attack. I would lead a regiment from the town, and the Major General would do the same by sea, along with the General on a second vessel. In truth Galveston was the worst place to be attacked. Except for the bridge to our north, we were surrounded on all sides by the Gulf of Mexico, allowing anyone with the means to attack us from any direction by sea. I didn't like it, but this was home, and I needed to protect it.

"Again," I said, and the children groaned in protest. One look from me and they were doing their counts again, going from one position to another smoothly and with little effort.

I was running Joshua, Marianne, and their friends through some of my training drills, teaching them some of the stances and movements I found myself using the most when I fought. They were draining the first few times, but after practice and repetition, they were easy and almost therapeutic. Right then, the kids did not agree with me.

"You do this _eve'y_ _day_?" little Brianna asked. She was only about five years old or so, but she had lived with Margaret and Adam for most of that time. She had been found as an infant by a Nephilim family who immediately realized what she was and brought her to the school. Her heart was very big for one who didn't know what happened to her family.

"Yes, I do," I chuckled out. "How do you think you are going to get strong and fast without training every day?"

"I'm already strong and fast," Michael said. In response, I ran behind him and lifted his small body up by his leg. His look of shock said everything it needed to, as the others immediately started their movements again.

"You might be strong and fast, Michael, but you need to be stronger and faster than your enemy." He nodded frantically and I put him back on his feet.

"Should we show them?" Adam asked from the doorway. "Maybe they need an example."

"You can't beat Adam," John said. He was another little boy living in the school. "He's the best fighter in town."

"I suppose that's a yes," I said, looking at Adam with a grin. "Hand-to-hand?"

"Hand-to-hand," he repeated with a nod.

We walked to the middle of the room, and the children lined the wall on one side. He took his stance, his hands up in from of his chest with his fingers straight and his knees slightly bent. I crouched down so that my left side was facing Adam and my hands were relaxed as I held them in front of my face. His eyes were darting all over and I could see him assessing me for weaknesses. I smiled when he seemed to be having difficulty finding any. I had fought too many opponents to show a weakness.

I darted forward, aiming for his right side and feinting to the left and back again, charging right through his defenses as he tried to figure out what I was doing. I had him face down on the floor before he could respond, and everything was silent. When everyone caught up to what had happened, the children gasped collectively and started chattering and exclaiming about how "amazing" that was. Adam tapped my wrist with the hand I had behind his back and I helped him up.

"Have we learned anything?" Adam said, brushing himself off.

"Isabella is _amazing_!" the girls said together. I laughing and shook my head.

"I think they missed the point of this exercise," I pointed out, and Adam sighed.

"I think so, too. Does anyone else know what the lesson was?"

"Train, train, train!" the boys chanted.

"Yes, exactly. You will not be as good as Isabella if you don't train every day." I crossed my arms over my chest and looked down at the floor, tapping my foot.

"Oh, stop embarrassing the poor girl, Adam," Margaret said from the training room door. She ran to Adam and had him on the floor again with one sweep of her feet. Every child looked as though their eyes were about to pop out of their heads.

"Woah," Joshua mumbled. The other kids looked at him as soon as he spoke, as he had been quiet the entire practice session, and he proceeded to look at his feet.

"Woah is right, Joshua," Margaret said as she let go of Adam. "Now you know why you should do as you are told and not complain, right?" All of the children nodded their heads. Adam stood and brushed himself off again, giving his wife a sideways glance.

"Why don't _you_ fight Isabella, dear, and show these kids how it's done?" Margaret looked at me, and I returned it with a shrug.

She took her position—the same as Adam's, except lower to the ground—and I followed suit. I kept my eyes on her the entire time we positioned ourselves, and she did the same to me. She was leaning to the left slightly, and her weight was on her rear leg. The muscle in her thigh twitched before she sprang, surprising me by making the first move. Margaret seemed like more of a defensive fighter than offensive.

I recovered almost immediately, avoiding her outstretched hands by turning myself so that I was just out of her reach. She did the same when I grabbed for her as she passed, using her momentum to get back on her feet and spring again. I rolled under her and grabbed her by the ankle before she was able to twist away again. She kicked at me, but I deflected the blow with my forearm, moving my arm with her foot to change the direction. I grabbed her arm when she twisted to face me and flipped her over, pinning her the same way I did Adam. She tapped the floor and I let her go, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet.

"Very nice, ladies," Adam praised with an astounded look on his face.

"I could teach you a few things, Mr. Platt," Margaret said, shaking her finger at him. I laughed and shook my head just as a vision slammed into me, my eyes burning. I felt myself fall to my knees and put the heels of my hands to my closed eyes.

It was the vision of the soldiers again, the exact same vision as the first time. The grey soldier and the blue soldier were fighting, and the grey soldier was struck down. As he collapsed to the blood-soaked ground, his cap fell off and I was able to see his face . . . Major General Jasper Whitlock's face. A shadow fell over him, and a woman's voice spoke.

"Just what I needed."

The vision ended, but the burning in my eyes continued. I wiped and wiped at them, but the sensation would not go away. Margaret mumbled something about water from beside me, her hands on my shoulders.

"Move your hands, dear," she said calmly. "Let me rinse your eyes, see if that makes it better."

Adam's hands wrapped around my wrists and gently brought them from my face as I fought with the need to cover my eyes again. Margaret ran her thumb under my eye after tilting my head back slightly, bringing my eyelid down a little and pouring cool water over it, then repeating the process with the other.

The water soothed the burn to a tolerant level, but it did not fully go away for another minute or so. When it finally did, I was looking up at the ceiling through half-open eyes and my back was against Adam's chest. Margaret was still in front of me with a small bowl and another larger bowl of water, her face tense. The kids had grouped behind her. I blinked a few times, trying to get my vision clear again, and startled mumbling.

"Need to go . . . Need to go . . . Need to go."

"Marianne," Margaret called, "Go get Isabella's pack and belt. Make sure she has clothes. Julia, honey, go in the kitchen with Laura and grab as much bread, water, and salted meat as you can carry. Joshua, go get a bag for the food." I heard the thumping of feet as the kids went to do as they were told, and I inhaled shakily.

"I need . . . to go now . . . right now," I said, my voice trembling. "I've been waiting . . . for this. It's why I came . . . until I found out. I need to go."

"You'll go, Isabella," Margaret said soothingly. "We are getting your things together for you. Just hang on one moment."

Feet approached again and stopped in front of me. I took my belt from Marianne and secured it around my waist with Adam's help, as my hands were shaking like mad. He helped me to my feet afterward, and I wiped at my eyes one last time to get the water off my face. Hermes flew in through one of the windows and landed on Adam's shoulder, using his height to look down at me. He cooed softly and I gave him a small smile.

"I'm okay, Hermes," I said quietly. "No need to worry about me." His eyelids dropped half-way as he gave me a condescending look, as if to say "_Not_ worry about you? You must be joking." I laughed under my breath and shook my head as Joshua came in.

"You can let go, Adam," I said, and he cautiously took his hand from my elbow, where he had been holding some of my weight.

I carefully reached for my bag, trying not to bend down too quickly, and hoisted it onto my shoulder. Joshua handed me the bag of food—a rather large bag—and looked up at me with tears in his eyes. Marianne was standing just behind him with a similar look on her face. I dropped my bag back to the floor and knelt down on one knee in front of them. I knew what they were thinking, but I kept quiet until one of them spoke up.

"We're not going to see you again, are we?" Joshua asked, his lip starting to quiver. I raised my arms to them and sat on the floor. They sat on either side of my lap, and I put my arms around them both. They rested their heads on my shoulders, tears making wet spots on my tee.

"You're g-going to l-leave us a-all alone," Margaret added softly. I shook my head and kissed each of their foreheads.

"We may not see each other again, but you will not be alone," I said. "You have Margaret and Adam here to take care of you and love you, just as they have been for years. You have all of these other kids who are living here and the others who might come later who will need your help. They'll need you to help them get stronger. You've been here since you were born. You know what it's like to live here, and you need to make sure they know it's okay, that the world hasn't ended because they've come here. Life goes on, and you can help them learn that." They looked up to the group standing around us, and all of them were nodding with tears in their eyes.

"B-but y-you won't b-be he-here," Joshua said. I ran my hand over his head soothingly.

"But I will never be that far away. I'll always be checking in on you, even if you don't know it." They were still sniffling, and I let them for a few moments before I spoke again.

"These people love you two. Please, let yourselves love them back. Let them care for you until you are able to care for yourselves. You will be so much happier, and you won't feel so alone. Can you do that for me?" I asked, and they both nodded. I wanted to cry at the sight of them, but I wouldn't. I couldn't. I had a task to do.

They stood from my lap and I got up after them, grabbing my bag and leading the group to the door. I turned slightly and looked at everyone. They still had tears in their eyes, but Adam and Margaret were also smiling. I returned with one of my own, and Hermes moved himself from Adam's shoulder to mine. Putting my hand on the doorknob, I sighed.

"You may feel like you have to be strong, but you don't have to be strong alone." And I walked out feeling like the biggest hypocrite the world had ever known.

When I reached the battlefield, the ground was already covered in blood, as well as the dead and dying. Bayonets littered the ground, either lying next to their owners or sticking out of the ground. Others were buried in the bodies of their enemies, but I tore my eyes from the sight. I ran through the field towards the sounds of gunfire and clanking swords, hoping I was not too late.

I found Jasper on the other side of a group of trees. He had just cut down two men trying to double team him and was moving on to the next group. His grace and power were amazing to watch, especially because he was human. I watched him from the trees as he parried and deflected each of the blows aimed at him, striking down each of his attackers with a single swipe. He moved on again, this time to another single fighter.

Their battle lined up with my vision from the first attack. Each parry, deflection, swipe, slice, and stab was the same as how I had seen it, including the attack by the Union soldier—a Major like Jasper—that sent my rescuer to the ground. I flinched at the sight of the sword through Jasper's abdomen, but I stayed where I was until the soldier moved off to find another fight. When he did, I activated my invisibility rune and ran out to where Jasper lay dying.

He was hurt badly, but he was still very much alive. He flinched away from my touch, but I ignored his reaction. Picking him up as quickly and carefully as I could, I put the effects of my rune over him and ran to the trees. He gasped when he was able to see me from his place in my arms, but he kept quiet. Blood was pooling on his abdomen from his wound when I finally set him down, and he groaned from the movement.

"Why . . . are you here?" he ground out. I gave him a warm smile as I removed his shirt, using it to staunch the heavy bleeding just long enough for his sire to arrive.

"I saw this happening," I said calmly.

"What's . . . going to happen?" He gasped as I applied pressure to his wound.

"Someone should be coming for you very soon," I answered. "You are going to be reborn." I sighed and looked away.

"I would rather save you than let this happen, but for some reason, it has to. You have to become a vampire."

"A what?" he exclaimed. "No-ooo . . ." His breathing was faster and more shallow, his chest rising and falling so much that he started bleeding faster.

"_Placere placidas esse_," I said with a little magic, and Jasper immediately calmed down.

"I know you don't want this to happen, and I don't want to let it, but if I don't you will either die here or sometime soon after. You will not have a life, and you will never meet the one meant to complete you. She'll be everything you have ever hoped for in a partner, Jasper. She'll make you feel like you don't deserve her, but you won't want to leave. You can hate me for the rest of our lives, but please know that you will be happy. Not right away, but you will be." I took his hand in one of mine, using the other to keep pressure on his abdomen, and pressed our hands to my chest.

"I am so sorry for what you are going to go through until that day, but know something better is waiting for you." A branch cracked a small distance away, and I tried to sense who was coming.

"She's here, Jasper. I need to go. Good luck, be safe, and know that I'll be watching," I said, kissing her sweaty forehead before dropping his hand over his wound. I took off through the trees and out into the clearing of bodies just as the vampire found Jasper.

"Just what I needed," was the last thing I heard as I ran. The fighting in the field had moved to the seas, but Jasper was about to fight the biggest fire of his life.


	20. Chapter 19

_Chapter 19: 1863_

_Three days later . . ._

Night was quickly falling over the Galveston School, and the children who called the place home were getting ready for bed. Margaret and Adam were worried about them, but with Isabella's recent departure, their sad faces were warranted. All of them had come to like the woman, especially when she started teaching them instead of their normal caretakers. She made the classes fun, even if her lessons were difficult, and she always entertained their desire for stories of other places. Even the adults had to admit that she was a master storyteller. Her words brought them into her story in a way they had not experienced before, painting the scene she described in their minds until they felt as though they had been there with her. The loss of her was hard on all of them, but especially for Marianne and Joshua.

Margaret and Adam walked to the kids' rooms every night to check on them, and every night the scene was the same. Josh's room would be empty except for his roommates, and he would be found with Marianne at her window, looking out over the main street of town. He would be hugging Marianne, and Marianne would have her head on his shoulder. Neither of them would acknowledge anyone coming into or out of the room, and Joshua would only leave when Margaret called for lights out. Adam tried to think of something to bring them out of their depression, but with the loss of Isabella still so fresh and a war being fought right outside the building, choices were limited.

"Hey," Margaret called softly, "time for bed." She walked over and sat behind them, putting her hands on their shoulders. They slowly turned around and looked up at her with lifeless eyes.

"She's not coming back," Marianne whispered. "We're never gonna see her again." Joshua stayed quiet, his eyes flinching slightly as Marianne talked, as though her words were physical blows.

"Oh, honey, don't say that," Margaret said. "She said she will be checking up on you, even if you don't know she's there. Don't let her find you doubting her."

"But it's true," Joshua growled. "She made friends with us just to leave us here alone. She'll forget all about us."

Something moved in the window behind the group, drawing Adam and Margaret's attention. When they saw what was sitting on the windowsill, they both smiled.

"I think Isabella heard you," Adam said as he nodded his head towards the window. He almost laughed when the children turned around so fast that they bumped into each other, trying to figure out what he meant.

Sitting on the windowsill was a rolled up piece of paper and two bright red and orange feathers, maybe a foot long. A slight breeze was ruffling the feathers, but the paper was still. Joshua slammed the window open and Marianne grabbed up the items, making sure not to damage Hermes's feathers. Joshua closed the window again—after looking out to make sure Isabella was not still around—and sat down next to his twin. They examined the feathers while Margaret grabbed the letter and unrolled it, reading it out loud:

_Dearest friends:_

_ I must apologize for my quick departure, but know that my journey led me to your town for a reason, a reason that came to life that day. I have succeeded in my mission, but now I have another. I must move on, but know that you can always reach me. I heard of Joshua and Marianne's doubts, but please make sure they know I did not lie to them, did not use them. I truly came to care for them, but my care puts them in danger the longer I am nearby. This is why I have left two of Hermes's feathers. Just speak to them as though you were speaking to me and I will hear you. I may not be able to answer, but I will be listening all the same. I will keep my promise, but they must also keep theirs. They must help the others who walk through that door, as well as let the two of you help them. They will never truly be happy if they do not._

_ Remember that, as long as you hold a feather, I am never that far away. If you truly need me, I will be there. Always._

_Forever loving . . ._

"Bella," Margaret whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. She wiped at her face with the back of her hand, holding the short letter in the other. Joshua took it from her, smoothing the paper out on the bed with gentle hands. He and Marianne looked down at it lovingly, and when they looked up at each other, they both nodded.

"We'll do it, Bella," he whispered, and his sister finished.

"We'll make you proud."

_You already have_, I thought with a smile. I shook my head and walked away from the tree I had been hiding behind as I listened to them.

The kids' depression almost had me knocking on the door again, but I knew I couldn't. I would have had a harder time leaving, and it would have only hurt them more. I couldn't live with myself if I did that, and seeing their reactions just now, I knew I made the right decision. They would be okay. Maybe not right away, but eventually.

Hermes joined me as I walked back to my camp. The time had come to pack up and move on, but I did not know exactly where I was going just yet. Jasper should have finished his transformation, and I wanted to visit him before leaving to make sure he would be alright, but just as I thought that, a brief vision of the group I kept seeing came to me again.

It was just the same as before, with Carlisle, a burly brunette male, and the petite girl with long, black hair standing with five shadows. Jasper's face faded in on the figure embracing the petite girl, and Margaret's on the one under Carlisle's arm. Her face changed into that of a caramel-haired woman with soft features and a calm smile. The vision suddenly changed to Jasper gasping, scarlet eyes open wide in shock and fear. The vampire from the battlefield was with him, and she gave him a seductive smile.

"_Major Jasper Whitlock_," she crooned. "_How nice to finally meet you My name is Maria, and from now on, you will be working for me_."

"Why," I asked quietly as I shook my head. "He was such a nice young man, and now she's going to use him to do whatever she wants." Hermes squawked in response, tilting his head to the side.

"I guess I can't even visit him, huh?" He squawked again and I sighed.

"Now where?" I asked, sitting down on my blanket. Hermes settled in my lap and rustled his wings so that my hands were underneath. He increased his body heat and I smiled at the warmth.

"Maybe we'll start for Florida, huh? That's where Carlisle was headed, so maybe we'll run into him."

_A young man's face appeared in my mind, a mess of bronze hair and sharp green eyes staring at me surrounded by sickly pale, sweat-slickened skin. As I watched, the light in his eyes slowly shrank until it disappeared. Another male face—Carlisle's face—appeared over his as my field of vision expanded._

_They were in a makeshift medical place of some kind, with the sick and dying all around them. The sky through the window behind the young man was dark, and the hustle and bustle obviously present during the day from the filth on the floor had died down to almost nothing. Carlisle seemed to be the only caretaker still present, but the young man he was taking care of was dying._

"_I'm sorry, Edward," Carlisle said. "I would never wish this on anyone, but I will fulfill my promise to your mother. I will do everything in my power to ensure your survival. You will hate me for it, but hopefully you will come to embrace what I will give you."_

_He picked up the young man and took him away, his eyes flashing red and then back to his normal gold. He was hesitant about what was to come, and yet . . . hopeful that his loneliness would finally end._

"So, now I have fifty-five years to walk from Galveston, Texas, to Chicago, Illinois," I mumbled. "Great. I guess Florida is out, then."

"Again and again this lone woman defies my every effort to catch her!" Aro roared.

He was pacing the throne room, dragging the half-drained body of his latest victim behind him. Caius and Marcus were sitting down, the former watching his brother with frustration and the latter with a look of indifference. They had had to endure this rant from Aro many times over the centuries. Every time he would get word of where Isabella Swan was living, he would send a tracker to capture her only to find that she had already moved on and her trail was gone. Demetri had told him not long ago that it seemed as though she had never even been there. Of course, the ability to hide one's trail such as she had been able to only increased Aro's desire to have her for his own, as well as his fear of _not_ having her.

"We have not gotten close enough, brother," Caius said. "Give it time. We will come close enough to snatch the witch up."

"She is Nephilim, my dear brother, not a witch," Aro snapped.

"She may not be one by blood, but she is one by actions and tenacity," Caius mumbled, and Aro laughed harshly.

"I will give you that, Caius. She is greatly straining my patience. I have been debating sending four of our trackers to that damned country to search for her separately, but that would greatly deplete our resources for other more immediate matters." He took his chin between his forefinger and thumb, humming thoughtfully as his pacing slowed.

"Where's that map," he asked no one in particular, heading back behind the dais to the small room beyond. He quickly reappeared, carrying a small table with a large map covering the top.

"Demetri!" he called, and the guard member appeared before him on one knee.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Look at this with me, my boy. I want to see something," Aro said mysteriously. He proceeded to take the quill and ink pot from the table top and draw circles on the map.

"London, England . . . Roanoke, Virginia . . . _back _to London . . . Charleston, Carolina . . . Salem, Massachusetts . . . and Galveston, Texas," Aro listed as he circled them on the map. He marked London with an "X" on the upper right hand side of the map.

"Looking at this map, Demetri, where would you see our lovely lady going next?" Aro asked.

Demetri glared down at the paper, his eyes flying around from circle to circle to an unmarked place somewhere else. He walked around the table, looking at it from each side, and crossed his arms over his chest when he stood next to Aro again.

"I see no logic to what she is doing, Master," Demetri finally said. "If she is trying to avoid us or someone else, she goes from north to south and back again. If she were to keep with that, I would see her heading north again. Where, I could not say for sure."

"Take a guess, Demetri," Aro pressed. "If you had to choose one place, where would you say?"

"I . . . I would say . . . either Illinois or Ohio, but I cannot be sure."

"Close enough, Demetri," Aro praised. "I want you to check that country from the northern coast to Illinois for this little cretin. Once you have, I want you to bring her to me, or return with what you have found out. If you catch wind of her, follow. I only want to see your face again if you have been unsuccessful in your search, or you have Isabella with you, dead or alive."

"How much longer do you think we will have to follow her?" Georgina asked her mother.

"Until we are no longer needed," Jody answered. "Our family has been following Isabella Swan since she was changed three hundred years ago, Gina, and we will not be the ones to abandon our duty to her."

"But what _is_ our duty, mom? We do nothing but follow her wherever she moves to, but we never _do_ anything," Gina said.

"I have told you this before, and I asked my own mother the same. None of us know why we are supposed to do this, but we have done it anyway and will continue to do so. Your great grandmother Joan was the last of us who managed to get close to Isabella, but none of us have felt the need to like she did. We were drawn to her for some reason, but not as much anymore."

Gina huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, turning her head away from her mother so that she was looking out the window instead. Jody understood what her daughter was feeling. She had asked herself the same question over and over again without finding an answer, but abandoning the girl when she felt as though she had to be close by was not something she could do.

"We are going to Chicago next, so we need to start packing," Jody said, remembering her "feeling" only hours ago. Gina sighed and stood from her chair, walking silently to her room and closing the door behind her.

Jody sat down in her daughter's seat, thinking about how much of s surly teenager her once sweet and smiling little girl had become. Gina had become a young woman only this past year—at the age of ten—and her level of happiness had quickly plummeted afterward. Howard, Jody's husband, had noticed the same thing, and Isabella's prolonged movement from Massachusetts to Texas had not helped their daughter's mood.

Howard was human, and Jody felt she might as well be. Unlike her mother, Jody had never had a vision, only feelings of something changing and the whisper of a city name. Gina had yet to have either. Jody was worried about what was going on, about what could be causing her family to lose its psychic abilities, and could think of only one reason: their marriages. Jody's mother had married a human, and so had her grandmother. The last time two psychics had married and had a child in their family was four generations ago. The gift seemed to be fading out with each generation.

Jody sighed again and put her head in her hands. She was getting a bad feeling about what was to come, but she did not know what. All she knew was that Georgina would be the cause of it.


	21. Chapter 20

_Chapter 20: Edward_

"Edward, dear, time for supper!" mom called from downstairs.

"Okay, I'm coming," I said, getting up from my bed and leaving my book on the night table.

I washed up in the hallway bathroom and went to the dining room, where my mother was already waiting with dinner set up in the middle of the table. Dad's chair was still empty, and mom was staring at it longingly when I walked in. She quickly composed herself when she noticed me and put on a smile. She walked around the table and wrapped her arms around my stomach, her hair tickling my nose. The smell of soap and flowers came from her head, a smell that instantly soothed me no matter what happened . . . the smell of my mom.

"You're growing up so fast, Edward," she said with her cheek against my shoulder. "My little Edward isn't so little anymore."

I didn't say anything, but I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and rested my head on top of hers. With everything going on with the influenza and dad getting sick, I knew she needed comfort. She was worried about him, me, our neighbors, and all of her friends, so many of which had already been taken by the sickness. Dad had only just started coughing and sneezing yesterday, but he had been much worse this morning. He refused to see a doctor, saying going to the doctor for a cold would make him get the flu by being around all of those people. He went to work and mom had been rather quiet all day. I didn't know how, but I knew she was thinking dad already had the flu.

"Did you wash up?" she asked, leaning back from me and trying to give me a doubtful look. I smiled and nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."

"That's my boy. That's my Edward." She patted my cheek and smiled tiredly. Her eyes were a little dull, and she had dark spots under her eyes. I wanted to blame it on her worry, but I knew better; I knew it was more than that.

"Come sit down, mom. I'll get the rest when dad shows," I said, gently steering her towards her chair. I pulled it out for her and she sat down with a deep sigh.

"Thank you, sweetheart. All of this sickness around us is taking a toll on me." She leaned her head back slightly and closed her eyes, her body slumped as though drained of all energy.

I chastely kissed the side of her head and went into the kitchen, grabbing the salad bowl from the cabinet and a tongs from the drawer. The bread was already on a pan to go into the oven, so I set it inside and turned the heat on low; I'd turn it up once dad arrived. I threw a salad together quickly, chopping various vegetables up and tossing them in with the lettuce. Mom already had the hen resting in the stove, waiting to be placed on the table, and her apple pie was in the fridge. I took that out and put it on the counter to get the chill out before we ate it as the front door creaked. Mom stood shakily from her chair, pasting a fake smile on her face as she went to greet my father.

"Hello, honey, how was your day?" she asked, her voice strained.

"Fine, fine," my father huffed, his breathing shallow and labored. I could hear each breath from across the room, and from the look on his face, work was anything but fine. People called in sick, went home early, or were missing and later found dead in the local ER. No, fine was not a word that would be used by anyone for quite some time.

"What's for dinner, Liz?" dad asked gruffly as he fell into his chair.

"I made a small hen with a fresh loaf of bread, and Edward put together a salad. An apple pie is in the fridge," she answered with a tight smile. She wanted to ask how he was feeling, but she knew it would make him mad. So did I.

"I was warming the bread, so whenever you're ready," I answered, saving my mom the trouble. She was fighting to keep what she wanted to ask from coming out, so the less she talked, the better.

He stood and walked to the bathroom without a word, his steps unsure and stumbling. A wracking cough echoed from the bathroom as he washed up, and I could imagine him gripping the sides of the sink until his knuckles were white from the force of it. My mom and I exchanged a worried look, and she mimed talking on the phone and pointed to me. I nodded and she gave me a more genuine smile. He returned and mom and I grabbed the food from the kitchen, bringing it to the table. She sat and I pushed in her chair, comfortingly rubbing her shoulder with my hand for a moment as I took it away.

We ate in silence for the next few minutes, and mom finally broke it as we were carrying the leftovers back into the kitchen. Dad had barely eaten anything, feeding the plan I could see growing in mom's head.

"Edward, honey, do you want the leftover chicken for lunch at work tomorrow, or do you want to finish up the meatloaf?" She glanced at me and I winked, immediately understanding what she was doing and waiting for his response.

"You don't need to make me anything," he finally admitted after a few moments.  
"Okay, dear. I'll just save it, then," mom said back, and another few moments passed.

"I don't think I'll be going into work tomorrow, Liz. I should see the doctor." He sounded so defeated that I almost felt bad, but this was the only way.

"Do you want me to call and make an appointment, or will you go to the hospital?" mom asked as we came back in with the pie. He sighed heavily.

"I'll just go in. You probably won't be able to get an appointment for the next month, let alone tomorrow." My mom nodded in agreement.

"I think this is for the best, Edward," mom soothed, and he closed his eyes.

"We need a gurney!" the nurse called as my father was brought in. His arm was draped over my shoulder, and I had mine around his waist to keep him up. I almost couldn't hold his weight, but I wasn't about to let him fall.

The nurses took him from me and he flopped down onto the gurney, coughs shaking his body as they wheeled him away. My mom clung to my sleeve, her face covered in tear stains and running makeup. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to provide any sense of comfort I could, but I knew only a doctor could give her what she really needed.

"We will let you know when we get him stabilized," a nurse said before returning to the train behind my father.

I steered my mother to a somewhat empty corner of the room, but we were still surrounded by people. They were all mumbling about their loved ones, who all seemed to have symptoms similar to my father's.

"They said it's the flu . . . Spanish Influenza . . . coughing, weakness, harsh breathing . . . it's been fatal, so far."

My mother started crying harder, and I rocked her back and forth, trying to keep calm as we waited to see what would happen next. We were brought back to his make-shift room an hour later to find him unconscious but breathing better than he had been. The nurse told us his doctor would be in to speak to us shortly, so I settled mom into the chair next to the bed, and I stood near the curtain wall. The doctor came in minutes later.

He was roughly six foot tall with strong shoulders and sharply angled features. He had fair hair and even fairer skin, but his eyes were the real mystery; they were gold. His smile seemed genuine enough, and I didn't sense anything I didn't like coming from him, but there was still . . . something _off_ about the doctor.

"I'm Doctor Cullen, and I'll be the one looking after Mr. Cullen. You are his wife and son, I presume?" Doctor Cullen asked, and we nodded.

"I-I'm E-Eliza-Elizabeth," my mother choked out between sobs, "and thi-this is ou-our s-son, Ed-Edward Jun-Junior."

Doctor Cullen held his hand out to me, and I took it briefly, holding in a gasp at the coldness of his hands. When I looked up, my shock must have shown. He mumbled something about poor circulation and moved to my mother, taking her hand and kissing the back before releasing her.

"Your husband is stable now, Mrs. Cullen, but his health is in serious decline," he said bluntly. "I don't know how much longer he will remain so. I have been able to diagnose him with the Spanish Influenza, but I apologize for not being able to give you more than that." He gave us a sympathetic smile, and my mom shook her head.

"He-he's not go-gonna make it, i-is he?" she asked, and he sighed softly. His response was all she needed to start crying harder, bringing her face into her hands and resting her elbows on her knees.

"I only give him a few days. The stress he has put on his body has allowed the disease to spread much faster than it should have." He looked from my mother to me. "The two of you should try to stay calm and rest often. I don't want to see the two of you here, as well."

I nodded and he walked out, telling us to call if we needed anything. I thanked him for both of us and kneeled down next to my mother. She threw her arms around my neck, and I hid my eyes in her shoulder, both of us leaving the other's shirt wet from tears.

The next morning found my mother in a hospital bed next to my father, only a cloth curtain and unconsciousness separating them. She had fallen asleep in the chair last night, and when I couldn't wake her this morning, Doctor Cullen informed me that she also had the illness. He did a cursory examination on me when they got mom settled, and he suggested that I not leave the hospital for long periods of time in case the flu hit me as quickly as it had hit my parents.

Simply put? I had it, too.

Doctor Cullen rearranged the curtains so that I could sit between my mother and father. As I did, I could feel myself getting more and more tired, feel my breath become more difficult. Trying to take a deep breath sent a stab of pain through my chest, making me cough uncontrollably. Doctor Cullen noticed my steady decline throughout the day, but I refused his offer for a bed to be brought in for me. It would come soon enough without me asking for it.

Dad was almost dead by the end of that day, and he died during the night. Mom had woken up while they were wheeling him away, and she cried herself to sleep as she mumbled "no, no" between outbursts of tears. I took dad's place on the bed by the morning, sweating until my shirt was soaked through and coughing in fits lasting minutes.

Doctor Cullen was stoic as he examined me throughout the day, but he kept me updated on mom's condition when I was conscious. She was delirious when I woke up around supper time that day, but I slipped right back out of it as she was talking to Doctor Cullen. All I heard was the desperate plea of a dying mother, but not the plea itself.

*C*C*

"Doctor Cullen, please save him . . . please save my boy," Elizabeth Masen cried. My hand was clasped in both of hers, but her strength was so weak that I could have broken her hands trying to gently remove myself.

"Mrs. Masen, we've done everything we can for Edward. There's-"

"Yes, there is," she mumbled, her head lolling back and forth as she tried to stay awake. "_You_ can help him, Doctor Cullen, I know you can. You can save him . . . You can save my boy. You are the only one. Please, promise me that you will do everything _you_ can to save my Edward." I nodded, whispering "I promise" as she passed out again, leaving me standing next to her bed debating what she knew.

"She's right, you know," a very familiar voice said from behind me.  
I spun around quickly—maybe a little too quickly—and felt my face break into a smile as I looked at Isabella Swan. She looked a little worse for wear in the eyes, but she was still the Isabella I had parted with so long ago. She was just a little more rough.

"Isabella," I said breathlessly, and she opened her arms to me with a caring, understanding smile. I stepped up and wrapped her small frame in my arms, feeling her do the same around my waist.

Hugging her like that reminded me of just how small my friend truly was, how easily she could break if someone really wanted to hurt her, and then of the constant danger she put herself in to save others. The danger she put herself in to save me.

"Should you be here? Can't you get sick?" I asked, holding her away from me by her shoulders slightly.

"Rune," she said with a smile. I sighed silently and looked back to Elizabeth.

"How much do you think she knows?" I asked, letting Isabella go before one of the hospital staff saw us.

"Enough to know that you can save her son. Enough to know that she can die knowing her son won't follow her," she answered. Pain echoed from her voice as she spoke, and she shook her head at the questioning look I gave her.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Change him," she said with a grimace. "I don't wish your life on anyone, but I've seen it, just as I saw it with you. He is supposed to be changed. He is supposed to survive this, and you are the one who is supposed to do it."

She stepped up to Edward's bed and put her hand on the side with a soft sigh. All of a sudden, she gasped and tried to pull her hand back, but Edward's was holding on to it. Her whole body was tense, but she didn't try to break Edward's grip. His eyes were wide open and coursing with pain and despair as he stared at her, gasping for breath. He was starting to panic, his heart rate increasing dramatically, and Isabella laid her free hand over his in comfort. She jumped a little, her body vibrating slightly like an energy was coursing from one to the other and back again.

"Please, calm down, Edward," she whispered calmly, and his body immediately reacted. His hand relaxed in hers, his breathing slowed, and his eyes closed partially. "It'll all be over soon."

He sighed, falling unconscious, and she quickly removed her hand, gasping for breath. She looked from him to me and back again, her eyes wild with confusion.

"Isabella, what's wrong?" She just shook her head, backing away from Edward and towards the door.

"I have to leave," she finally said softly a she continued to stare at Edward. "I need to leave now, Carlisle. You need to change him, and you need to do it before he gets too far gone. His mother is going to die within the next few minutes. Fake his death and leave with him before he actually dies." She finally looked at me, her face full of sadness, confusion, and apology, and she was gone the next moment.

The door slammed shut behind her as Elizabeth Masen's heart stopped. It took me a few seconds to realize what had happened and what I should do, but I stepped into the hall from behind the curtain and called for a body bag and a gurney.

"I'm sorry, Edward," I whispered. "I would never wish this on anyone, but I will fulfill my promise to your mother. I will do everything in my power to ensure your survival. You will hate me for it, but hopefully you will come to embrace what I will give you."

While everyone was watching them, I picked Edward up and ran to the back door. Before stepping outside, I listened for any signs of someone noticing. Nothing. I slipped out the door and into the alley, pausing only long enough to look down at the dying young man in my arms before running off.

*B*B*

_What in God's name is going on with me?_ I thought.

I was sitting by a small fire in the middle of the woods just outside of Chicago with Hermes pecking at the ground in boredom. He did not seem to understand my feelings towards what had happened with the young man, but I couldn't get the feeling of his hand in mine out of my head. I was filled with such warmth and electricity that I had been shocked, just standing there for a moment until I noticed his panic. When I asked him to calm down, I hadn't needed to use magic like with Jasper.

The feeling scared me. It wasn't the average affection I had felt with someone I had saved or had come to know when I allowed people near me. This was something else, and I refused to allow myself to put a name to it. I couldn't. Anyone close to me was in danger, that had already been proven numerous times. I would not allow someone else to be put in danger when I could keep them out of it-

_The crew was back, but another face added itself to the mix. Young Edward appeared on Carlisle's right side, the opposite side of Margaret's descendant, but the female under the man's arm stayed a mystery._

_The young girl with long black hair from the crowd appeared, sitting on her front porch while humming to herself. Two older men approached her, but she kept humming._

"_How did you know?" one of them asked. He bore very similar facial features to the young girl, making me think he was her father._

"_I told you it would happen, but you didn't listen. I saw it. I saw her die, and I told you, but you didn't believe me," she prattled on, looking at the men with her head tilted to one side as if examining the men._

"_Mary Alice Brandon, how did you know?" he yelled, but she only smiled and went back to humming._

"_Answer your father, young woman," the other man spoke up sternly._

"_I saw it. I told you that already. What else do you want me to say?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't know exactly, jut that I saw it."_

_The men grabbed Mary Alice by her upper arms and dragged her off, the vision blurring slightly and clearing again to find the young woman in what appeared to be some kind of cell. The walls, ceiling, and floor were stark white, matching the gown hanging off her small, thin frame. Most of her hair had been hacked off, leaving only a halo of black around her head that was slightly longer on the sides. She was standing in front of a window and turned when the door behind her suddenly opened. She, though, did not seem surprised by the intrusion._

"_I saw you coming," she told her visitor. He did not respond. She sat down on the edge of her bed and tilted her head, exposing her neck to the man. He stood there in apparent shock, and she giggled when she noticed._

"_If I fight you, I die. If I don't, you'll be interrupted. I'll live. I don't really want to die yet, mister. I can feel something big in the future, and I want to see what it is."_

_He seemed stunned by her admission, but only for a moment. He ran forward and latched onto her neck, a thin stream of blood falling down from where his lips met her skin. She whimpered in pain but quickly fell unconscious. He let go at the sound of a large crash from the hallway of the asylum, sending him running and me out of the vision._

"Two years," I whispered. "Two years to go from here to Biloxi, Mississippi." Hermes squawked, and I sighed. "Let's get moving."

*D*D*

"She's _gone_!" Demetri roared, smashing the kitchen table of the young woman's apartment. "How do I keep missing her?"

"Maybe you're getting slow in your old age," Felix said. "The great and powerful Demetri is losing his touch?"

"No," he yelled again, sweeping his arms across the counter and into the column connected. "I'll get her." He walked out to the street and immediately headed south.


	22. Chapter 21

_Chapter_ _21_: _Carlisle_

I watched Edward as he fought with the flames of change as they finished raged through his body. I felt every scream as though it were my own, as though I were going through the change all over again with him. It hurt, knowing that I was the one to cause it, but I kept hearing Elizabeth and Isabella talking to me every time I started regretting the decision. Elizabeth just wanted her son to live, no matter what kind of living it was, and Isabella knew . . . something. Something was going to happen, and Edward needed to be alive—kind of—for it. I would have robbed him of the experience, had I not changed him.

He let out one last piercing scream before his body slumped on the bed and his heart stopped. I stayed perfectly still, my body as relaxed as I could make it so I did not seem like a threat to him when he first woke up, and waited impatiently for him to awaken. He did not keep me waiting for long, gasping suddenly as his eyes shot open only a moment later.

Blood red eyes scanned the room from one side to the other until they found me, freezing and widening as I stayed still. His chest was rising and falling fast with panic, a leftover reflex from his humanity. He sat up slowly, watching me for any signs of movement, and continued looking around, relaxing slightly when he found no one else in the room.

"Where is she?" he asked, surprising me. His wide eyes showed his own surprise, most likely from the changes in his voice.

"Who?" I said with a blink. It was the last question I would have expected from him right after his change.

"The woman . . . the one from the hospital . . . I grabbed her," he said, his face scrunched up as he tried to remember her.

"You remember that?" I asked with slightly disbelief.

I had struggled to remember my human memories, and I had to constantly repeat them for quite some time before I was able to bring them forward just as easily as any memory I had after my change. Except for Bella. Like Edward, I had remembered Isabella right away, including every moment I spent with her, important or not.

"Yes . . . very clearly, but . . . nothing else as clear. What my mother looked like . . . my father . . . but they're blurry. I can see her . . . like she's standing right in front of me." He looked up at me abruptly. "Who is she?"

"Her name is Isabella Swan, but is this really the first question you have for me?" I asked with slight disbelief. He thought for a moment, his eyes travelling up towards the ceiling before darting back to mine again. They burned with sudden outrage and confusion, his newborn state leaving him with little control of his emotions.

"What did you do to me?" he roared, and I put my hands up in surrender.

"I did what your mother asked of me with her dying breath, Edward, even though it warred with what I wanted to do. I saved your life . . . by changing you. You're a vampire now, Edward, just as I am," I finished as he slowly started shaking his head. By the time I stopped, his red eyes were glossy with despair but narrowed in anger.

"I don't want this!" he continued to roar. "Why? Why did you do this to me? You made me a monster! A murderer! You didn't save me. You should've just let me die."

"Your mother's last wishes were for you to live, Edward, no matter what," I explained. "I think she knew something about me, that something was different, and she begged me to help you. I never would have done this to you without a good reason. Your mother and Isabella gave me two."

"What?" he asked in shock. "What did they say? Why would they want me to live like this?"

"As I told you, your mother felt guilty that you never got to live your life, so she wanted me to give you the opportunity in any way possible. As for Isabella, she saw something happening in the future, something you had to be there for. She doesn't know what it is or why you have to be there, but things go very badly for those around her if she ignores her visions." I paused for a moment, letting what I said sink in before continuing.

"You have a reason to live, Edward, a purpose in this world. Had I let you die, I would have robbed you of that purpose, as well as ignoring you mother's dying wish. I know you did not want this, that you were ready to die, but so was I when this happened to me. I would not wish our lives on my worst enemies."

"I have to kill people now," Edward whispered, his hand wandering up to his throat as he grimaced, finally feeling the constant burn in the back of his throat. "I'm going to be a murderer."

"No, you don't," I said, bringing his dull, hopeless eyes to mine again. "You never have to kill anyone if you can control yourself. The first taste of human blood I have ever had was when I bit you, and I've been a vampire for two hundred and twenty-five years." He looked at me with suspicion, and I chuckled.

"I work as a doctor, Edward. I'm around human blood all day, every day, and I haven't killed anyone. You can do it, too. It just takes practice."

"But . . . you're a vampire," he reminded me, and I nodded. "What do you eat . . . drink . . . whatever it is you do?"

"Animals, Edward," I said. "Isabella showed me, actually, but that's a story for another time. Right now, you need to hunt."

*A*A*

_When: 1920_

_Where: Biloxi, Mississippi_

The young girl was sitting on her front porch, humming to herself. Two older men approached her, but she kept humming. She knew why they were there, that they would ask her how she saw that little girl drowning before it happened. It would be the same as when she saw the Smith family driving off a bridge during a rain storm and every member dying.  
"How did you know?" one of them asked. He bore very similar facial features to the young girl, but she showed no signs that he was her father. He could have been any man from the town that she knew.

"I told you it would happen, but you didn't listen. I saw it. I saw her die, and I told you, but you didn't believe me," she prattled on, looking at the men with her head tilted to one side as if examining them. "It's almost like . . . _you_ killed her by ignoring me," she thought out loud.

"Mary Alice Brandon, how did you know?" he yelled, completely dismissing her accusation, but she only smiled and went back to humming.

"Answer your father, young woman," the other man spoke up sternly.

"I saw it. I told you that already. What else do you want me to say?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't know exactly, just that I saw it."

The men grabbed Mary Alice by her upper arms and dragged her into town, straight to a tall, brick building set back from the rest. A sign saying _Biloxi Asylum_ hung from above the front door. Alice looked at it briefly as they approached, thinking nothing of either the sign or her situation. A doctor in a white lab coat was waiting inside the door for them and escorted the group deeper into the building, stopping outside one of the pure white cells. Alice was shoved in by the two men, landing on her knees as a small white gown was thrown on the floor next to her. She was left there for the rest of the night.

Most of her hair was hacked off the next morning, leaving only a halo of black around her head that was slightly longer on the sides. Alice felt a small pang of loss when she saw herself in the little mirror above her sink, but she took comfort in the fact that they could not change her eyes. The deep purple would remind her of who she was, even if the hair she had been known for was gone. She touched the ends briefly before turning to greet her visitor, a nurse surprised to see Alice waiting for her.

"Mary, honey, it's time for your first treatment," she cooed, as though Alice were a child needing convincing. Alice tilted her head as she continued to stare at the woman.

"Treatment for what?" she asked dreamily, her eyes unfocused as she found her answer. "You want to make me normal."

"Why, yes honey, we do. Don't you want to be normal?" the nurse asked.

"No. It won't work, anyway," she said, turning and sitting on the bed.

"You don't know that, sweetie. Let us try."

"No."

The nurse sighed and shook her head, stepping out into the hallway and beckoning someone over. She mumbled something to whoever was out there with her, and a rather large man came in. He walked up to Alice and grabbed her by her forearms, lifting her off her feet and carrying her to the treatment ward a few halls down. Every door they passed was closed, and screams of pain and terror echoed out from them with painful force. Alice looked in one window to find a girl younger than herself strapped to a bed, her feet and hands bleeding from cuts made to release whatever evil was inside of her. The next was an old man with wires tapped to his head, his body tense and shaking as his eyes rolled back into his head.

Alice tightly closed her eyes against the sight, unable to watch their pain and know that her own was only a few short minutes away.

*M*M*

_Six Months Later_

Alice was standing in front of a window and turned when the door behind her suddenly opened. She was not surprised by the intrusion.

"I saw you coming," she told her visitor, still facing the window. He did not respond. She sat down on the edge of her bed and tilted her head, exposing her neck to the man. He stood there in apparent shock, and she giggled when she noticed.

"If I fight you, I die. If I don't, you'll be interrupted. I'll live. I don't really want to die yet, mister. I can feel something big in the future, and I want to see what it is. It's just too soon right now."

He seemed stunned by her admission, but only for a moment. He ran forward and latched onto her neck, a thin stream of blood falling down from where his lips met her skin. She whimpered in pain but quickly fell unconscious.

He let go at the sound of a large crash from the hallway outside, darting to the door and peeking out. The vampire could smell one of his own in the building, one he didn't know. He looked back at the girl he had fed from to see that she had already started writhing in pain. He had taken most of her blood, causing the effect of his venom to happen much faster than it would have. He couldn't stop it, but he couldn't let himself be found. He wasn't a fighter if he didn't have to be.

Following the emergency exit signs, he quickly made his way out of the asylum, but he stopped just inside the door. He turned back to see a dirty blonde man run into the room he had just left and run out with the girl without pause. She was still screaming in pain and clawing at her skin as she burned from the inside out. Michael wanted to follow him, had been told to follow him, to make sure his creation was not left somewhere to change alone and become a rogue, but he was afraid. He didn't want to fight the other vampire, and following him to keep track of the girl could lead to just that.

_No_, he thought, _I can't risk it. I'm sorry, young one._ He ran.

*B*B*

He ran. I knew he would, but I still wondered at the power of self-preservation present in those as close to impervious as anything else conscious and living. I constantly found myself in situations where my life was in immediate danger, and, most of the time, I put myself in them trying to fulfill my visions.

This vampire—all but impenetrable as he was—ran away. All he had to do was sneak in during shift change, bite Mary Alice, and follow the other vampire, providing a sense of paranoia that would cause a long enough distraction that, when he returned her after investigating, he would find himself to be too late to finish her. She would be tainted by the other vampire's venom, and he would leave her in the middle of the woods to change and wake up alone. As of right now, she would die.

I ran as fast as I could after the dirty blonde vampire, following a small distance behind and using Alice's screams to lead the way if he went out of sight. When he stopped, I slowed down and activated my invisibility rune, approaching almost noiselessly, but with enough disturbance of the brush for him to hear me coming from some distance away. I would buy Alice as much time as I could, but without showing myself to this vampire, I had no idea how long that would be. My hope was the distance would add a few seconds.

He laid Alice roughly on the ground, growling as he kneeled over her. She continued to scream in pain, and as his leaned towards her neck, I stomped on a branch next to my foot. His head shot up, his lips drawn back from his fangs as he hissed and looked around for the source of the sound. I stepped backwards, drawing his attention to my position behind a bush, and he jumped up. I stepped again, bringing him into a hunting crouch as I continued to further the distance between us. At one point, I started stepping sideways, watching his head as it turned with my steps. His face grew more puzzled when he didn't see anyone or anything making the sounds, and I couldn't help but smirk.

"Stupid vampire," I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. He looked me right in the eyes, but his frustration told me he saw nothing, just as he should.

"Where are you?" he growled, stalking forward and scanning the area on either side of me.

Alice's cries were getting louder, telling me I only needed to buy her a few more seconds. He seemed to realize the same, looking back toward his capture and deciding to turn around. I grabbed a small pebble and chucked it hard at his head, the stone obliterating on contact. He turned back around, growling sharply, but decided he wanted Alice more than he wanted his assaulter as he ran back. I followed close behind.

"No!" he roared, finding Alice in transition. "No, no, no!" He smashed his fist into a tree before running off, making me chuckle at his drama.

I looked down at Alice as she writhed, quieter than she had been, but still whimpering and gasping in pain. Something about her was familiar to me, something about her face. She looked similar to . . . Helen. I hadn't thought about Helen Jameson in years, but as I looked down at Alice . . . her petite frame, dark hair, small nose, almond eyes . . . I saw Helen. And Joan.

_Interesting_.


	23. Chapter 22

_Chapter 22: 1921_

Ashland, Ohio, was nice during this time of year, with the trees changing and a new round of flowers blooming before winter came. People were still out and about, but they were slowly adding more layers to their ensembles as the temperature steadily dropped. Kids played in the leaf piles their parents made while trying to clean up the yard, and their parents didn't have the heart to scold them when they saw the smiles and heard the laughter.

I was here to find a woman. The vision of her jumping from a cliff just outside her town had haunted me ever since I had had it, only a day after the events with Mary Alice. I had had only a few months to get from Biloxi to Ashland, a journey that had taken me years as I stopped in towns along the way where rumors of deaths or kidnappings had citizens staying in their homes as much as they could. I would get rid of whatever was tormenting the town and move on, using the time between visions to help others along the way.

I had run straight to Ashland, arriving only three days before her jump. I wanted to stop her, keep her from jumping at all, but she needed to. For whatever reason, her jumping would lead to something more, something that had to happen. I knew she would survive, turned into a vampire, but I couldn't get over the fact that I had to let her jump off a cliff and survive.

I groaned in frustration. I was tired of not preventing the pain of others. Something was showing me these specific visions, showing me things that I had to make sure happen instead of things I could choose to act or not act on, but I still did not know _why_. The group I had originally seen as a group of black silhouettes was slowly being filled in with people, but why? Why were they so important? What did they have to do that is so important that they have to be changed into vampires, have to go through pain like that?

Looking into the schoolroom window, I saw a very tired stressed, and pregnant Esme Anne Platt Evenson. She had run from her abusive husband after finding out she was pregnant, and then from her family when they wanted her to go back to him. She was originally from Columbus, and she was twenty-six years old. Her baby was due any day now, but she didn't want to rob her students of time with her before a substitute would have to come in.

Town gossips are so helpful, especially when you're willing to give up information in exchange.

I went back to the room I had rented for the next few days and sat down on the side of the twin bed. The room was scarcely furnished, with only a bed, night table, and dresser. The walls were a soft, light blue, and the floor was a deep mahogany brown. My bag sat on the floor by the foot of the bed, and I hung my belt from the short bedpost right above it.

Sighing deeply, I let myself fall back onto the bed so that I was lying down and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. Voices from downstairs filtered up through the floor, making me smile as Eleanor tried to make Gene hear what she was saying. He was mostly deaf, so he usually gave her a "yes, dear" to get her to be quiet. They were an old, married, human couple, and cute to listen to, but today I just couldn't focus.

Sighing softly, I stood up again and jumped from my window, landing almost silently on the rain-soaked ground. The skies were clear now as the sun slowly set, but they hadn't been all day. Only this afternoon had the clouds finally dissipated.

I walked to the road and started heading into town, waving and greeting those who walked by. I only made the effort because the townspeople's happiness was so infectious. When I reached the small hospital, I paused and debated going in. I couldn't hear anything going on inside, but I caught a scent that had me striding towards the door.

"Isabella?" I heard as the glass doors glided closed behind me. I looked toward the desk to see the man I had smelled outside.

"Carlisle," I breathed, lifting my arms as I walked toward him. He embraced me for a moment before putting his hands on my shoulders and pushing me back slightly.

"You two know each other?" the young receptionist behind the desk asked, glaring at me before giving Carlisle an innocent look.

"For many years now," Carlisle said, steering me into a hallway off to the right.

"I didn't know you were dating, doctor," she persisted.

"I'm not, Janice. Isabella and I are old friends, that's all," he responded, still sounding civil when I was ready to wring her perfect little neck. She was one of those delicate, whiny types who only had a job because her husband told her to, not because she wanted one for herself. From the jealousy she was glaring at me with, she didn't seem to want her husband, either.

Carlisle brought me back to his office and sat behind the desk. He had only one window, which faced the door, and the wall opposite the desk was covered in awards and bookshelves overflowing with medical volumes. His desk was bare except for two piles of folders, one on each side. The walls were just as white as those in the hallway, brightening the room. I sat down in the chair before Carlisle's desk and sighed.

"What brings you here, Isabella? The last place I saw you was Chicago when you ran out of Edward's hospital room without so much as a goodbye," he said, his smile telling me he had no hard feelings. I still hung my head in shame over my reaction to the young man. I hadn't given any more thought as to why I had had that reaction to him, and I didn't think I would until I had to.

"I had another vision. A woman is going to jump off a cliff outside of town, and she will survive the fall. She needs to be changed, but, like with Edward, I have no idea why," I said, shaking my head in frustration. "It should happen in less than three days' time."

"Do you know who it is?" he said, and I immediately had a vision of him pulling Esme Platt back from the cliff, followed by another of Carlisle still living alone, without even Edward for company. His face was devoid of emotion, like he had given up on life. What I could see from the window behind him was the world in absolute chaos, but I passed that off as his emotion coloring the vision.

"I do," I said, "but I can't tell you. You'll prevent her from jumping, just as I want to, and that can't happen."

"You're probably right. Without seeing the result of defying your vision for myself, I would most likely go after her. Knowing it's going to happen, but doing nothing to stop it would be hard for me." He smiled at me. "You are much stronger than this old vampire, Miss Bella."

"Well, thank you, Doctor Cullen," I said with a laugh. We were quiet for a few seconds before I broke it.

"So, how did everything work out with Edward?" I asked. "I know he survived the change, but how did he react?"

"Not very well, at first," Carlisle said, putting his arm on the chair's and leaning to the side. "He was very angry, very unaccepting of becoming a murderer. He's adjusted well, as of now."

"What changed his mind?" I asked, truly curious.

"You," another voice said behind me.

I jumped up and turned around, backing towards the window and crouching slightly. I hardened my face, my smile replaced by a tight frown and my brows scrunching towards each other. Edward stood in the doorway in a button down shirt and dark jeans, his golden eyes raking over me. His bronze-colored hair was standing up all over, but in a way that made it look styled around his chiseled features. He was a little taller and more toned than I remembered, and his shoulders were set back. As soon as he realized my reaction to him, though, they fell and he put his hands up by his chest.

"Hey, calm down," he said softly, his voice gliding over my skin. He moved inside the office and shut the door behind him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

_It's not you hurting me I'm afraid of_, I thought, but I didn't say anything.

"Isabella, this is Edward Cullen, my younger brother. Well, at the moment," Carlisle introduced. He took a few steps toward me, positioning himself off to the side but still in between myself and Edward. I relaxed a little with him there, but still watched the young vampire cautiously.

"It's nice to finally meet the woman responsible for the life I'm living now, Isabella. I'm actually enjoying it," Edward said calmly.

"I hear that was not the case for a while," I said slowly, trying to gauge him.

"No, not at first," he said with a laugh. "When Carlisle told me of the alternative to killing, that changed, especially when I heard it came from you. He's told me mostly everything, you know. About how you have been seeing visions of us doing something important, but don't know what it is, how something will go terribly awry if you disobey your visions, how you go out of your way to help people and make our existence more bearable. I'm grateful for it. If you hadn't found out we could survive off animals, I don't believe I would have been able to adjust at all."

"You're welcome," I whispered, still not sure of him. He seemed a little _too_ controlled for a newborn, and the pull I felt from him was disconcerting.

"I heard you are here for a mission?" he asked, leaning against the door frame and hooking his thumbs in his jeans pockets.

"Yes. I'll only be here a few days," I said with a slight nod. I glanced at Carlisle to see him looking down at a paper on his desk with a half-hidden smirk on his face. I didn't comment, focusing on Edward again.

"How have you been adjusting to the changes?" I asked, slowly straightening from my crouch.

"Well, I think. My bloodlust is not as strong as it was, and I visit the hospital at night to test my limits. The blood is usually old, but it still tempts me enough to push me. Animal blood isn't wonderful, but it does the trick," he explained with a shrug. I could see him hiding something, but figured he had a good reason. If I found the opportunity, I would ask.

"Have you slipped?"

"Once, the day after my change. I approached her in the woods. I was running, trying to clear my head of the bloodlust, and I ran right up to her without even realizing it. Her screams didn't register until she was almost dead, but her thoughts continued to scream for help until she passed out," he said softly, his eyes blank as he remembered the event.

"A slip at such a young age is understandable, Edward," Carlisle said soothingly. "Almost every vampire has killed at least once."

"Except you," Edward said in return.

"But very few are able to abstain from their natural food source like the two of you have, separating you from the rest," I said, feeling a sudden desire to make him feel better. My level of discomfort grew as Edward's eyes met mine.

"I don't feel better knowing that I am denying what I am by not drinking what is meant to be my food source. It would make this easier if I did," Edward whispered, looking at the ground and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Vampires feed off blood, Edward. No one before Carlisle had tried animal blood to know they had an alternative. Those alive now live off the feeling of power killing a human gives them, but you don't. You don't relish the pain and terror of your victims," I soothed, but he shook his head. "It won't be true until you believe it, you know."

"I know, but at this point, I can't. Maybe with more experience, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm not truly a vampire because I don't drink from humans," he confessed with a sad, condescending smirk.

"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen wants to fit into the vampire stereotype, huh? Are you really a conformer, Edward?" I asked, before turning to Carlisle. "I must be going now. It's getting late."

"Alright," he said with a nod and a soft smile. He seemed to have gotten over whatever he had found amusing before.

"Good night, and be sure to make it home safely, miss." He cocked an eyebrow at me, and I shook my head with a grin.

"Why do you feel the need to tell me to be safe?" I asked sarcastically, and he rolled his eyes.

"I can walk you home," Edward chimed in quietly. I flinched, forgetting he was there for a moment, and he immediately put his hands in front of him again.

"Or you can walk home by yourself. I was only offering."

"I'm sorry, I'm just not used to being around you yet," I said, shaking my head. "I . . . have a hard time trusting new people."

"That's understandable, from what Carlisle's told me. The offer still stands, if you wish to take me up on it." He put his hands down at his sides, and I sighed.

"I'll be alright. I think you know by now that Carlisle worries when he doesn't need to."

I walked to the doorway slowly, hyper aware of my increasing heartbeat as I got closer to Edward. He noticed my pace and opened the door, standing next to it with his hand on the knob. I walked by and stopped on the threshold, turning abruptly to wave to Carlisle, but my other hand brushed Edward's. I jumped back like I had been burned, and he did the same, grabbing his hand as I did mine and examining the undamaged skin. I opened and closed my hand before looking up at Edward in shock, his wide eyes mirroring mine. He went to speak, but I ran until I burst from the front doors.

An older couple looked at my strangely as I ran through the parking lot and back home, not stopping until I was in my room and collapsed on the bed with my back against the wall. I brought my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, burying my face in my pants.

_What's going on with me?_ I thought, tears burning my eyes. _He's just a guy. He's no different from Carlisle. Why am I reacting like this?_

Even with all of my questions, I fell asleep in that corner before I was able to find out.


	24. Chapter 23

_Chapter 23: Esme_

"No . . . no, no, no no!"

Esme Platt was leaning over her newborn son, his still body lying in her lap as she carefully rubbed his cheeks with her thumbs. Jeremy's face was pale and wet from his mother's tears as they steadily fell from her eyes.

The beautiful little boy was only three days old . . . three days old and minutes dead. A lung infection ravaged the infant's body, so new to the world that it could not fight off the sickness. His little shock of brown hair still shone in the bedroom's light, and what could be seen of his baby blue eyes lacked the luster of new, curious life. Warmth still seeped from his limbs from within his blanket, but his mother could feel it cooling.

"No, no, no . . ." Esme continued to cry out.

Her neighbors could hear her. They knew her baby had been sick. They guessed the result from her anguish. Mrs. Anderson wanted to comfort the new mother, but this was not a time for perpetual strangers to invade. She did all she could when she told Esme to bring the baby to the hospital, but neither of them expected the sickness to get so bad so quickly. Three days old and sick for two.

"My baby, my baby," Esme keened, rocking back and forth in her seat. She stayed there for hours . . . crying . . . keening . . . rocking her dead son back and forth in her arms.

Mrs. Anderson watched as the young woman left her home some time later, her arms limp at her sides and her feet dragging on the ground. Esme turned the corner, leaving Mrs. Anderson's sight, and continued on to the very edge of the town where the forest and houses met.

She was heading in the direction of the cliffs, a common tourist spot known for its first kisses and marriage proposals. It was a place for a child's first real taste of nature, a place to bond with a parent . . . but not for Esme. Her child would never get his first taste of nature, never get to bond with his mother as she showed him what mysteries and secrets the forest held. She hoped to feed off the happiness of others in the forest to erase the memory of her child, to erase the pain she felt knowing her one and only child was gone.

As she walked up the steep slope, Esme's tears fell silently from her face. Not a hiccup or sniffle came from her, her steps sure and decisive even as her mind tried to decide what to do. But Esme knew. Her conscience was trying to think of other options, but Esme knew.

As she walked up to the clearing marking the top of the cliff, she knew.

As she approached the cliff's edge, she knew.

As she stepped off that edge . . . she knew.

*B*B*

"Esme," I whispered, watching her walk to the cliff's edge in a daze.

She didn't even pause when she reached it, stepping right off and falling to the ground below. I was so shocked—even though I _knew_ it was going to happen—I didn't have enough control of myself to put my hands over my ears to muffle the thump as she hit the ground. The breath rushing from her body echoed in my mind as I stared in her direction.

Running up to her body, I slid to the ground and gently put my hand on her cheek. Blood was coming from her nose and mouth, and her back was twisted so that her hips faced the opposite direction of her torso. One arm was bent back and under her. She looked dead as she laid there, but the bubbles of blood in her mouth and the painful rise and fall of her chest told me she was anything but.

"I'm so sorry this happened, Esme," I whispered as I looked into her dimming eyes. "I know you won't understand, at least not now, but know that I had to let this happen. You will feel happiness again, Esme Platt. That I promise you."

I pulled my stele from my boot and drew a numbing rune in the middle of her chest, an "X" with three circles spreading from the center out. I wanted to put it on her back, but as soon as I saw the break through her skin, I thought differently. She flinched once as I drew, and her body slumped as I took away her pain.  
Once that was done, I picked her up as gently as I could, thanking my slightly enhanced strength as I thought about the journey back into town and to the hospital where Carlisle was working that night. I was unable to warn him of the time I would be showing up as he would have used the information to find us and prevent Esme's jump, but he knew sometime tonight I would be bringing in the woman I had told him about three days earlier.

My strength started to fail as I reached the edge of the forest and entered the town. Esme weighed more than I did, and the rough terrain coupled with the distance exhausted me. The sky was darkening with the setting of the sun, masking my trek with Esme as I struggled to reach the hospital. I wanted to activate my invisibility rune, but I knew I couldn't without risking the remainder of my physical strength. Even a redirecting rune—one to move attention from me if it should happen to fall—would risk it.

"Carlisle," I said in a normal tone as I entered the parking lot, knowing he would hear me. "Take your break outside. I have her."

He immediately came to the door and gently took Esme from my arms, his eyes shining with tears and recognition. I just gave him a sad smile and backed away. He took her inside, barely able to look at me, and my heart broke at the betrayal on his face.

I didn't want to go home, to contaminate such a happy home with such sadness and guilt, so I wandered through town with my eyes on my feet, only paying attention to where my next step would be. That was why I never saw the man in front of me, why I didn't notice he was a vampire until he started chuckling. Why I froze in place as he glared at me.

"Hello, there, beautiful," he crooned, taking a step towards me. "I've been looking for you for a _very_ long time."

**A/N: I apologize for the short length of this chapter, but I, like many others in my area, left the effects of Hurricane Sandy. I am lucky in that I have power at my house again, as well as heat and running water, but I did not have the time this week to write a full-length chapter. But don't fear! Next week's will be normal.**

**~Angels of Twilight**


	25. Chapter 24

_Chapter 24: Edward_

I was walking to the hospital again, breathing deeply of the humans I passed by. My control was getting better by the day, but I still had that nagging feeling that I was doing something wrong . . . that I wasn't supposed to be doing this. Some darker side of me kept whispering to me, making me doubt myself. "You're supposed to kill people," it said. "Be a real vampire." Sometimes, I couldn't help but agree. The problem, though, was that every time I felt like this, Carlisle would walk by or smile or do _something_ to make me feel guilty about it. He was so proud, and listening to my thoughts and knowing he felt that way made me as close to nauseous as I could physically be.

As I approached the parking lot, I slowed my pace. Bella had been here, and very recently, but she had had someone else with her. Carlisle's scent stopped at the walkway in front of the doors, and Bella's went back towards town alone. The blood drops on the ground were very fresh, steering me away from Carlisle and the mystery scent and towards Bella, even as the former's thoughts showed me a broken woman and his great anguish at her state.

I found her outside a little two-story home, following her scent and the thoughts of someone watching her. She was heading straight for him, completely unaware of his presence as she stared down at the ground. He glared at her, a sick smile spreading over his face.

"Hello, there, beautiful," he crooned, taking a step towards her. "I've been looking for you for a very long time."

She froze and stared at him, her body showing fear and surprise. When I focused on her mind, tried to see what was going through her head, I was met by silence. Before I could think about what that could mean, the vampire grabbed for Isabella's arm. She ducked out of the way and took a step back, her hair arcing over her head with the motion. He stood still for a moment, staring at her with surprise, and grabbed for her again, lunging faster than the first time. When she dodged that, he kept going again and again until the two of them were dancing across the pavement, Bella ducking, twirling, and stepping out of his reach as he desperately lunged for any part of her he could get close to.

The movement ended suddenly with Bella's hair clasped tightly in the vampire's fist. Her eyes were wide in surprise, and his mirrored hers for a moment before he narrowed them and smiled in satisfaction. She started reaching behind her, and the vampire yanked her sideways and to the ground.

"None of that, now," he crooned, reaching down with his free hand and touching her cheek with his finger. "I have orders to bring you back alive, but if you struggle too much, my master will not be too upset if you end up dead. Personally, I think it is the easier solution to your existence, but orders are orders, I suppose."

My hands were tight fists by the time he was finished, my stomach rolling with nausea as he continued to touch her face. Her fear was gone, replaced by anger and indignation. I was pleasantly surprised by the change, and even more so by her swinging her legs out from under her, slamming them into the vampire's and bringing him to the ground. He let go of her hair in his scramble to catch himself, and he automatically lunged at her again.

A bright red bird suddenly appeared, screeching loudly and flapping its wings backwards so its feet were towards the vampire's face. It continued to claw at his face, screech, and fling sparks and small flames, giving Bella a chance to get away. She didn't just get away, though; she vanished.

I was just as dumbfounded as Isabella's attacker, looking around frantically for the woman who disappeared into thin air, but she was gone. Even her scent, which had pervaded the air around us, had dissipated. I ducked behind a nearby tree just wide enough to hide me if I turned sideways as the vampire's thoughts erupted with anger.

_No! She can't get away_, he thought, continuing to look around.

I didn't stay to see what he did next. Instead, I took off towards the hospital again to warn Carlisle of the other vampire and what happened with Bella. I didn't know what to do, but I was sure he would. Carlisle always knew.

I burst into the hospital reception area and jogged down the hall ignoring the nurse sitting behind the desk. I was well-known at the hospital for being Carlisle's younger brother, so no one stopped me if I was heading somewhere.

Carlisle's thoughts were coming from the surgery suit, harried and defeated. I stood in the prep room, watching Carlisle bend over the battered body of a young woman, probably around his age when he was turned. He was concentrating on her chest area, but his eyes held a film of defeat. He knew it was no use. Even the nurses in the room moved slower normal.

"Carlisle, you're losing her. Her mind is blank," I said just loud enough for him to hear.

He gave me a small nod just as the woman's heart gave out, everyone in the room freezing. Carlisle took the sheet covering her lower half and unfolded it, covering her face and declaring time of death. The nurses were visibly upset, but their minds told me they knew she wouldn't survive. They never expected her to, but they had to at least try.

"I'll bring her down to the morgue," Carlisle said softly. "Clean up in here, take a few minutes to collect yourselves, and we'll go on rounds."

The nurses nodded, and he removed the monitors from her body before wheeling her past me and out the door. His face was haunted with regret and pain, but he managed to give me a tight smile.

_Meet me in the morgue in five minutes. I'm going to change her before it's too late, but I can't leave just yet. Take her to the house and wait for me there_, he thought.

I went into the surgery suit and helped the nurses clean up as they told me about the woman, Esme Platt. They told me about her injuries, all of the breaks in her body and how whatever caused them should have killed her on the spot. Her spinal cord was almost completely severed from the twisted break, and the fact that it was still whole may have been the only reason she didn't die.

Dana, one of the nurses, started crying, imagining herself and then her little sister on the table in the same shape. She was next standing to me, so I wrapped an arm around her and she buried her face into my shirt. I rubbed her back comfortingly for a minute or so and she collected herself quickly, thanking me with an embarrassed smile before going off and finishing up the cleaning.

I took that moment to walk out and head down to the morgue, listening for thoughts so no one saw me go down there. It was relatively easy, given the time of day and the change in shifts.

A bloody Carlisle was standing over Esme when I reached the morgue, the cool, stale air coupled with the sight sending chills through me. Carlisle's mouth and hands were covered in her blood—the latter probably from doing compressions to help the blood travel through her veins—and so was Esme's neck. Blood seeped from the two round punctures left by Carlisle's fangs, the flow steady as her rejuvenated heart beat erratically.

"You have to get her out of here before she starts screaming," Carlisle huffed, his fangs gleaming at me even in the dim light from the small desk lamp. He was still obviously focused on her blood, but he was rapidly blinking and drawing his eyes little by little away from the wounds.

_It's not the blood_, he thought, recognizing my worry. _I know her. She came to me a few years ago with a broken leg. I set it and sent her on her way, but I haven't been able to forget her face since. She's always been at the back of my mind._

_Bella had to have known_, he continued after a moment. _She said I would stop the woman from jumping if I knew who she was, so she must have known about my connection to Esme. I just can't . . . Bella let her almost die for the sake of turning her into a monster, taking away the painless existence of death and replacing it with one full of constant discomfort and a desire for human blood. I don't . . . I don't know what to think right now, except that Esme has to survive. Bella said she had to survive for some reason, just like the two of us. I only wish I knew why so I could decide if this existence of ours was worth it._

I understood his confusion and doubt, but I was glad he wasn't outright blaming Isabella for what had happened to Esme. From what I had heard both from Carlisle and Bella herself, her visions had to come true or something worse would happen. For Carlisle to listen to Bella, even with his feeling towards Esme—and anyone could see that he had _strong_ feelings for her—meant Carlisle had deep respect for Bella and what she said. I decided it was the right time to bring up what had happened, the main reason for my being at the hospital in the first place.

"Carlisle, Bella was attacked by a vampire near the home she is staying in," I said quietly, even though I knew no humans were close enough to hear us. "She got away somehow, but he said he had been searching for her for a long time."

"What did he look like?" Carlisle asked, struggling to decide whether to focus on his questions about Esme or the situation with Bella being attacked.

"Tall, shoulder-length black hair, red eyes, evil grin," I said, trying to lighten his mood a little. I was rewarded with a small smile.

"That sounds like Demetri, the Volturi's tracker. They must still be trying to catch her," he said slowly.

"Catch her?" I asked, moving to the other side of the table Esme was laying on.

"Yes, they've been trying to catch her since long before my change. I already told you about my time there. When Aro saw Isabella in my memories, he sent his best trackers out to find her and bring her back to him. That was back in the late sixteen hundreds," he explained, his brow furrowed in thought.

"What do we do?"

"We need to find her, make sure she is okay, but one of us needs to stay with Esme at all times. Stay with Esme, and when I can get out of here, I'll take your place and you can search for Bella. The most important thing is to make sure she is safe wherever she is, and if she isn't, make sure she gets out of town."

"I'll take her back to the house and get her comfortable in the guest room. When do you think you'll be able to leave?" I asked, gently taking Esme into my arms as I scanned the area for anyone near the basement door.

"I'll finish the report on Esme, and I should be able to get the next shift doctor to come in a little early. He's sentimental to those who lose patients under their care," he explained, grabbing papers from the mortician's desk. "Give me a half hour and I'll be there."

I left him to the paperwork and carefully made my way up to the ground floor. The secretary was facing away from the basement door, her attention solely on the book she was reading while the waiting room was quiet. I dashed past, pushing open the doors as little as possible and flying across the parking lot as the nurse questioned the cold breeze coming from apparently closed doors.

I reached our home rather quickly and headed straight for the guest room, gently placing Esme down on the bed. She started groaning and fidgeting as the venom burned in her heart, restarting the dead organ and pumping Carlisle's venom through her body. Within minutes, she was screaming in pain as she burned from the inside out. I felt her pain, not only through her mind, but also through my own memories of the change. It was the worst experience of my life, the flashes driving me from the room and onto the back porch. The smell of Esme's drying blood was stuck in my nose, but as soon as I stepped into the soft breeze, it was eliminated by Bella's coming from the tree line only twenty feet away.

I froze and scanned the brush, looking for any signs of movement. Pinpointing both her scent and the sound of her breathing to a cluster of bushes and trees directly ahead of me, I jumped off the porch and slowly walked towards her, remembering her previous reactions to me.

"Isabella?" I called softly, trying to make as much noise as possible with every step. I heard a sharp intake of breath, and called out again.

"Over here," she finally answered quietly, sticking a hand in the air.

I jogged over and kneeled down next to her, grimacing at the sight. Her scalp was bleeding from Demetri yanking repeatedly on her hair, and she had her hand on her bleeding shin. Her ankle looked odd, too. I gently turned her leg, ignoring her almost nonexistent protests, and slowly moved her pant leg up over her ankle. It was bruised and swollen, and the skin had broken across her shin bone from the impact of her leg hitting Demetri's when she swept them out from under him. A fresh trail of blood ran from her hairline to her cheekbone.

"If it's too much, you can go back to the house. I'll be fine," she said with a tight frown.

"No, I'm okay. I just haven't seen a lot of people bleeding. I tend to keep a wall between them and myself," I said with a shake of my head. "Carlisle should be home soon, and I have to watch over Esme. I can carry you inside and he'll stitch you up when he arrives home."

"I can take care of my injuries, but I'd like a place to clean up, if possible," she said, and I shrugged, moving to her side so I could pick her up.

As soon as my skin touched hers, we tensed and Bella gasped. We stared at each other, her from my arms and me down at her, until I looked away and carried her back to the house without a word. She continued to stare, but another gasp brought my eyes to hers again.

They were pure white except for the black lines drawing a symbol where her pupil should have been, an upside down triangle missing the top line. It was gone as fast as it came, and Bella avoided eye contact with me even as I looked at her questioningly.

"What just happened?" I asked as I stepped through the back door and gently put her on the couch. She ignored me, closing her eyes for a few moments as something glowed on her arm before opening them again.

"Where is the washroom?" she asked, still not looking at me.

"Right down the hall," I said, moving to pick her up again, but she put a hand out to stop me.

"I can do it," she said softly, standing before I could protest. She walked by me, going out of her way to not even come close, and walked down the hall with only a slight limp. Carlisle arrived before she came back out, and I filled him in on what happened.

"Is she staying here?" he asked, and Isabella answered before I did.

"Don't worry, Carlisle, I'm leaving," she said softly, watching her feet as she limped towards us.

"You know that's not what I meant," Carlisle responded, confused at her reaction. She just shook her head, but he wasn't going to let it go.

"Bella, why would you say such a thing? You know you are always welcome wherever I am."

"Maybe before, but I highly doubt that now," she mumbled. "You changed the girl you love because I let her throw herself off a cliff. You must hate me."

"Sit," Carlisle said, gesturing towards the couch. She did so, and he sat down in front of her on the coffee table. He lifted her sore ankle into his lap and wrapped his hands around the joint, using the temperature of his skin to cool the leftover swelling. She sighed softly but didn't relax completely.

"The last time you did this, you found me in the wounds with a bunch of pixies and a bruise from being hanged around my neck," she said, looking at his hands, and Carlisle chuckled.

"You need to stop making a habit of this, then," he said lightly, looking at her thoughtfully. "When are you finally going to let someone travel with you to get you out of these sticky situations?"

"I have Hermes, Carlisle, and he's saved me more times than I can count," she said, but I was still stuck on the hanging.

"Someone tried to hang you?" I asked, my voice breaking, and she nodded.

"I was accused of being a witch in Salem, Massachusetts, during the Salem Witch Trials. I was hanged, and the young boy I had found and mentored was almost drowned. They told me if he survived being submerged in the lake, he would be declared a witch, an if he didn't, he would be cleared of the charges," she explained, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the back of the couch.

"But he would have died either way," I said, confused, and she gave me a small smile. All she said was "I know."

"It wouldn't have proven anything," I continued, and she gave me the same response, coupled with a rather large yawn. Carlisle smiled sympathetically.

"We will leave you be, Isabella. Sleep here, and we'll talk when you wake up," he whispered, releasing her ankle and lifting her until she was laying on the couch. She was asleep before he draped the blanket over her.


	26. Chapter 25

_Chapter 25: 1921_

"When do you think she'll wake up?" Edward asked Carlisle, standing next to the older vampire as they watched over Esme's writhing body.

Carlisle flinched with every scream, causing me to stand outside the room and look in on them. I still felt guilty over what had happened, but Carlisle had assured me he was not angry. He understood why I had to do what I did, and neither one of us liked it. Edward seemed to have no feelings except pity for the woman, but I didn't allow myself to get too close to him, not after what I had seen the day before.

"I'm not entirely—" he started, breaking off when Esme released a high-pitched scream. When she stopped for a moment, he tried again, his body tense and shoulders hunched.

"I don't know. The transformation is usually three days, so tomorrow evening would be my guess."

Edward nodded and they went back to watching Esme in silence. I made my way back to the living room again, favoring the ankle I had broken against the vampire's legs the day before, and let myself fall back onto the couch. The wound on my head was gone because of my rune, and so was the actual break, but the joint still hurt.

Edward had asked me about the symbol he had seen on my eyes when he was bringing me to the house. Carlisle had told him of my abilities, but hadn't mentioned what happens to me physically when I activate one of my runes. I told him it was my premonition rune, one of the three permanently drawn on my body, and he had stared in awe for an uncomfortable amount of time. I finally had to clear my throat and turn away to get him to stop, and he quickly apologized. Carlisle had called him soon after, and I hadn't put myself in a position to let him talk to me since.

That vision had shaken me straight to my core, making me question everything I thought I knew about myself and my life, what it could and could never be. I never thought I would ever find someone I would be able to spend eternity with, let alone fall in love. Companionship was all I had ever dreamed of, even with Hermes by my side, but according to the vision, I was going to find so much more . . . so much more in Edward. Not right away, but many years from now, we would be happy and in love, so in love that we constantly spent time with each other.

I couldn't let that happen, not with people coming after me. I had caused too much pain already without letting Edward get too close to me only to leave him behind when the tracker caught up to me again. My visions were taking me all over the country anyway, so I had no reason to believe I would ever—or _could_ ever—settle down with anyone, let alone a vampire. He seemed like a nice young man, but my future was too uncertain to involve someone else.

I decided to leave them behind with my next vision and hopefully avoid them until that time was over. I knew disobeying my visions would lead to something worse for all of those involved, this time myself and Edward, but I couldn't convince myself to take the chance, not after believing it would never happen for so long.

"Isabella, what are you thinking about that has put that look on your face?" Carlisle asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of me as Hermes perched himself on my knee.

"It's nothing, Carlisle," I said with a tight smile. He didn't believe me, but he left the subject alone.

"Edward tells me he saw something happen to your eyes when he brought you back here yesterday," he said. "From what he described, that was your premonition rune. Care to talk about it?"

I shook my head and he sighed softly. I peeked at his face as I hung my head and my heart hurt with the look of disappointment and hurt there. I knew he was hoping I would talk to him like I used to, but the less he knew the better. He already knew more than others I had let myself get close to, and that knowledge could be used against him. Adding to it would only make the situation worse for him.

"How do you know her?" I asked after a few moments of silence. Carlisle looked up at me hopefully, but I kept my eyes on my lap.

"I treated her for a broken leg a few years ago, back in Columbus. It was my last day as an ER doctor," he explained, his voice sounding just as disappointed as before until he mentioned the ER. "Edward and I had been there for a few years already, but when I saw Esme, I was ready to stay just to make sure she didn't get hurt again."

"But you left anyway?" I pressed, trying to distract him from questioning me.

"Yes, I left to make sure Edward would not be in danger. What about you? What are you thinking about that you are trying to avoid talking about?" I gave my lap a small smile. Busted.

"I'm not staying, that's all," I whispered. "I don't want either of you to get the impression that I'll be staying with you from now on. I can't, not with people coming after me like they did yesterday. The less contact I have with others, the safer they'll be."

"I disagree, Isabella," he immediately responded. "We can't help but know you, and we will still know you even if you are not around. You can't undo meeting us, and we won't let you. You might think we will be in less danger, but I know you will be in more. Pushing away those who would fight with and for you will only hurt them and yourself."

I was shaking my head half way through his speech, but I was struck by a vision before I could voice my feelings. The last thing I heard was Carlisle gasping in shock and Hermes squawk and flare up in distress. The _whoosh_ and heat of his flames melted away, bringing the vision from a bright red wall to a street bathed in darkness and the full moon's glare.

The sidewalks were empty but for one tall young woman dressed in a long coat ending just past her knees. Her bright blond hair spilled over her shoulders, and when she raised her sharp blue eyes from the ground, I was floored by her beauty. For someone clearly human, she was inhumanly beautiful.

"Rosalie, what are you doing out so late?" a male voice called from behind me. I couldn't turn around to see him, but from the number of footsteps, he was not alone.

Rosalie's face turned to hatred and anger as she watched the man and his group, but her forcibly straight back and shoulders, as well as her stance, showed the fear she had for this man. She knew him, but I wasn't sure of how.

"What I do is none of your business, Royce," she spat, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It is as long as you bear the name King," his voice rumbled. He walked by me and towards Rosalie, along with two other men. All of them were relatively tall and broad, but not very muscular. The group smelled of expensive alcohol, and their steps showed it. Rosalie was intimidated by them, that much was obvious, but she stood her ground.

"I would gladly get rid of it," she said with a sneer.

"That's too bad because the King doesn't let go of what's his, not as long as he's alive or it is." He stumbled as he stepped up to Rosalie, drifting off to one side. "And you, my little woman, will never be free of me."

The vision skipped from scene to scene after that, but I understood what happened, as appalling as the men's actions were. I was shown flashes of Rosalie, her face scrunched up in agony and terror, and Royce slamming her against the side of a building. The men were laughing in each of the scenes, even in the last where they left Rosalie in an alley. Her body was scratched and broken, a slowly growing puddle of blood by her head. She was barely alive as they walked away, unconcerned with anyone finding out what atrocity they had done.

Another flare of light and heat erased the image of Rosalie's broken form from my mind, but I could feel it waiting to attack me again. My eyes were burning, and my stomach was churning from what I had seen. Carlisle was calling to me, trying to get me to talk, but I couldn't get anything out past my groans and cries of pain.

I felt like someone was stabbing my eyes with something extremely hot. I tried to wipe at them, tried to do anything to make the burning stop, but nothing worked. My hands were suddenly pulled away from my face, but my protest was cut off as freezing cold hands replaced mine with a sharp but painless zap. The heels of Edward's hands were against my eyes, and his fingers covered my temples. At that point, I wasn't worried about him getting too close. I couldn't let him move away, not when he was making the pain go away. I grabbed his hands, covering their coolness with my feverish heat, and my body slumped into the couch with a relieved cry.

"Breathe, Isabella," he whispered. Even his breath was cool, washing over my face as he spoke. "You're okay now, just breathe."

He started humming as Carlisle moved me so that I was laying on my back. Edward sat next to me, not moving his hands from my face as my chest heaved. My breath was finally slowing down, but my mouth was dry from my cries. I could hear someone moving around and a faucet being turned on, but I focused on the coolness of Edward's hands on my face. The temperature difference between his skin and my own was amazing, and a reminder of my previous thoughts.

"Here, Isabella, drink this," Carlisle said, interrupting me before I could spiral into my argument again. Edward shifted as Carlisle propped me up, and I grabbed his hands to keep them still.

"I'm not going anywhere, Isabella. Let us make you more comfortable. Relax," he said, but I didn't let go.

His hands moved over my eyes, turning until his fingers replaced his palms. He then moved from the couch and sat behind me, and Carlisle let me recline until I was leaning against Edward's chest. I tensed when one of Edward's legs ended up between my side and the couch, but Edward hushed me before I could say anything.

"You're feverish, Isabella. Edward will help bring down your temperature," Carlisle explained, something pressing against my bottom lip. "Sip."

The water was cool as it travelled down my throat, but it made the heat in my eyes feel even hotter. I sputtered and started coughing from the sudden increase in pain, and Carlisle immediately took the cup away.

"Breathe, Bella, take a good breath and swallow," he said, and I did. I calmed down quickly as Carlisle wiped the water from my face. I felt a little annoyed that I couldn't do it myself, that he didn't ask, but I kept quiet.

"Are you okay, Edward?" he asked, but I couldn't see his face with Edward's hands still over my eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine," Edward answered, his voice a little tight. His chest wasn't moving with that fake breathing he and Carlisle made a habit of.

"Wha-What happened? What's . . . wrong?" I asked, struggling to control my mouth.

"You started bleeding from your eyes during your vision," Carlisle explained calmly. "I was making sure Edward was okay with being so close to it."

"Oh, you don't have to—" I said, starting to pull his hands away by his wrists, but he shushed me.

"I'm fine, Isabella, really," he said, but I wasn't convinced.

"I'm okay now, Edward. You can let go, and I'll clean up. I don't want you to be uncomfortable in your own home because of me. Someone should probably check on Esme, anyway," I reasoned, and he hesitated before removing his hands and helping me back into a sitting position on the couch.

I could feel his hands hovering over my shoulders as I opened my eyes, and everything in front of me was blurry and bathed in deep red. I closed my eyes again and rubbed them, trying to clear them, and my vision was a little less red when I opened them again. Carlisle appeared in front of me with a small bowl of water and a damp cloth, kneeling on the floor.

"Close 'em," he said softly, with a small smile on his face, and I did as he asked.

Carlisle gently wiped away the blood on my face, one hand holding my chin and the other holding the cloth. He touched my eyelids, cheeks, and jawline before lightly tapping my cheek with his hand. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands before opening them again, groaning loudly when everything was still tinted pink.

"What's wrong, Isabella?" Carlisle asked, his eyebrows creasing in worry as Edward walked back into the room with a cup in his hands.

"Everything's _pink_," I whined, letting my head fall back. The men were silent for a moment before they started laughing.

"Well, I guess that's okay," Carlisle said amidst his chuckles.

"I _hate_ pink."

"Then maybe it's not."

"Not at all."

Edward handed me the cup, still smiling, and took a step back. He looked a little less tense than before, and his hands were hanging loosely at his sides. He watched intently as I drank from the teacup, closing my eyes for a moment at the taste. When I looked at him again, he had turned away.

"Isabella, if I may ask, what was that vision about?" Carlisle asked, and I sighed softly, looking down into my cup.

"My next victim, I guess. A woman in Rochester, New York, will be beaten and raped by her drunk husband and two of his just-as-drunk friends. They'll leave her for dead in a puddle of her own blood."

"You must be joking," Edward said, and I shook my head.

"These are the things I see, Edward. I saw Carlisle attacked by a vampire and almost killed. I saw your family die. I saw Esme jump. I saw another man stabbed by a bayonet during the Civil War. I saw a young girl thrown into an asylum by her own father because she saw that someone was going to die. I have yet to have a happy or even _emotionally_ _neutral_ vision in the three hundred years I've been alive," I explained, staring at the floor in front of me.

"That's why you won't let anyone in . . . you think you'll see them get hurt if you do," he whispered, and I shrugged.

"See them get hurt, cause them to be hurt . . . You know someone is after me. You saw it yesterday. I don't know who it is, but I won't risk giving them leverage by letting myself get close to people. Being as close to Carlisle as I am is dangerous."

He started to say something else, but I stood up and walked down to Esme's room, sitting down next to her with a sigh. She looked agitated, so much so that I almost didn't want to give her anything else to worry about, but I had to say it.

"I'm sorry, Esme," I whispered, leaning forward and staring down at my hands. "I'm sorry I didn't help you. I'm sorry I didn't stop you. I'm sorry I don't know why this had to happen. I'm sorry I didn't help your son." I paused, squeezing my eyes shut and pushing my fists against them.

"I'm sorry I told the vampire to attack Mary Alice. I'm sorry I didn't stop Jasper Whitlock's fight before he was stabbed. I'm sorry I let Edward's family die of that disease and didn't help him get better . . . I'm sorry I watched Carlisle be attacked before I tried to help him, I'm sorry I had all of them changed, I'm sorry I killed that witch girl in Carolina instead of trying to help her first. I knew it was wrong of me, I knew she couldn't be healed. I know all of them had to be changed. I know it. I regret letting it happen. I wish it hadn't. I wish I knew why it had to happen," I rambled, my hands turning into and digging into my scalp.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

And then I ran.


	27. Chapter 26

_Chapter 26: Edward_

Isabella had been gone for one month already. Esme had woken up two days after Bella went missing, asking for the woman she had seen before she blacked out. When Carlisle explained that she was gone, Esme broke down. Carlisle managed to calm her down after a while, but with her newborn state, it was more difficult than it should have been. What really caused her to finally stop was when she recognized Carlisle:

"_Doctor Cullen?" she whispered, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Carlisle gave her a small smile and nodded._

"_What's going on?" she continued, and he sighed softly. His shoulders were tense, and his mouth was a thin line._

"_After you jumped, Isabella—the woman you saw—brought you to me, and I helped you. She had told me someone would need my help soon, but she didn't say who. She knew I would have stopped you from jumping if I had known," he started explaining, but she cut him off._

"_Why?" she asked abruptly._

"_Why what?" Carlisle said, with a look of confusion on his face._

"_Why would you have saved me?" she clarified, and Carlisle gave her a small smile._

"_You have been a constant image in my mind for a decade, Esme," he said. "I haven't been able to get you off my mind since I fixed your leg."_

_I felt a dull ache in my chest as I listened from the doorway, turning away and walking into the living room and out the front door. I sat on the front step and put my head in my hands, resting my elbows on my knees as Bella's face floated around in my head. I wanted to block her out, but she was blocking Esme and Carlisle's thoughts about their mutual attraction. I could still hear them, but not while I focused on her._

_As I thought about her, though, I couldn't help but ask why she had left. She and Carlisle were close, and she wasn't as uncomfortable around me as she had been, or so it seemed, so I couldn't understand why she had left without a word. It hurt, knowing that something was bothering so much that it drove her away and she hadn't let either of us try to help her._

I sighed roughly, bringing myself back before I got caught up in those thoughts again. I was depressed enough as it was, having to watch Carlisle and Esme get closer and closer by the day as he showed her what it meant to be a Cullen vampire. The last thing I needed was to depress myself by thinking about Isabella.

"Edward," Carlisle called from inside. "I think you should hear this."

I got up from the same step I had sat on that day and followed his thoughts to Esme's room. She was still shy and unsure of herself, her mind constantly replaying either what Isabella said to her after her fall or the first time she met Carlisle back in Columbus. I was still unnerved by the blood red of her eyes when I walked in, but I had gotten better at hiding it.

"What is it?" I asked, standing in front of the bed where both Esme and Carlisle were sitting, her hand clasped comfortingly in his.

"Esme was thinking about Isabella," he started, and I couldn't help but think "again."

"She remembered something from when she was going through the change, something Isabella said to her." He looked at Esme, who then looked down at her lap with watery eyes. She wiped at them as though she would be able to wipe away the growing moisture and jumped when she didn't feel anything.

"She was talking to me. I think it was about half-way through, but it was so hard to keep track of time," she said, her face scrunching off in concentration. "I never want to experience anything like that ever again. It was horrible . . . and the thirst . . . even now, it's still hard, but I've been able to control myself—"

"Focus, Esme," Carlisle said. "You've done extremely well, but we were talking about what you remembered. What was Isabella telling you while you were changing?"

"She was so unhappy," Esme started, slowly shaking her head. "She kept apologizing for things. I don't know what all of it meant, but one was letting Carlisle get attacked by a vampire, another was letting your family die, and then not stopping me from jumping. She talked about other people, too, but I don't know who they are. I got the feeling that she was sorry for turning us into vampires."

"She knows something else would have happened to us had she not, so why would she feel that way?" I asked, looking at Carlisle.

"Isabella hates causing others pain," he explained. "She's said this to me before. She feels guilty that we had to go through such a difficult experience just to live forever watching those we are close to wither away and die while we stay just as we are. It's like she's given us the same curse she has, a curse she wouldn't wish on anyone, but has given to others already."

"None of us would have ever met, had she not. Does she realize that?" I asked, my voice getting louder.

This made no sense to me. She basically regretted ever meeting us. Had she not saved Carlisle, he wouldn't have been around to change me, and she and I never would have met. Esme would have laid in the forest until she bled out or her heart stopped from the pain. Carlisle would have become a meal for a vampire. I would have died barely knowing what was going on around me. she saved us, gave us a chance to relive the lives that would have ended way before they were supposed to.

"That's very true, Edward, but she doesn't see it that way. She robbed us of death and cursed us with eternal life," Carlisle said, making me jump. I must have said the last part out loud without realizing it."

I shook my head and stomped away, going right back outside and past my step. I walked straight into the woods and kept going, killing anything I came across as I ran. Deer, rabbits, squirrels, anything. I drank what I wanted until I was full, but I kept killing.

Eventually, I ran up to a large oak tree and jumped straight up into its branches, leaping from one to another as I went higher. I stopped near the very top and squatted on the branch, with one hand on the trunk and the other buried in my hair, gripping it in a fist.

I didn't understand. Why did Isabella think so low of what she did? Sure, we weren't the happiest of people, but we were still alive. We were able to live longer than we would have, and then some. Why did she feel like such a monster for saving us? Why did she regret it?

I looked down towards the forest floor and my eyes widened. Looking back on the path I had taken from the house, I stopped breathing, letting my hand fall from my hair and land in my lap. Looking at the destruction I had left behind, I knew it wasn't her she thought of as a monster but us.

Trees laid broken or uprooted along the route I had taken, and bodies littered the trail. Some were disemboweled, while others were just broken and thrown away. Blood was spattered all over the forest, both on the ground, the downed trees, and those still standing. I had broken every one of the branches I had used to get up to where I was, leaving one side of the oak bare and broken, just like the forest.

Isabella wasn't the monster . . . She knew it wasn't her. She wasn't upset about changing us, she was upset about what we had changed into. We were killers, unnatural beings she had killed throughout her life. She wished she had been able to help us only to spare us from becoming what we were now, not because we cheated death.

I sat down hard on the branch under me, leaning my back against the trunk. I felt like the breath had been punched out of me. If that were true . . . if the reason we were still alive thought we were monsters . . . what were we doing? Why were we trying to fight against our nature? Why were we fighting against what we were meant to be, meant to do?

_Columbus_, _Ohio_, _1927_

"_I'm leaving," I said, facing the only window in my room. Carlisle and Esme were standing behind me, their minds radiating shock and confusion._

"_Why?" Esme asked, hurt evident in her voice._

_I felt bad, doing this to her, but I couldn't keep going on like this. The two of them were in love, growing closer and closer every day while I was forced to watch unless I ran from the house. They felt bad about it, but they were soul mates. They couldn't do anything about what was happening, and it hurt them to stay away from each other. I couldn't ask that of them, and I couldn't listen to Carlisle preach about our way of life anymore. Ever since my epiphany in the woods years ago, I had never been able to shake the feeling that I was doing something wrong, that I needed something to feel better about myself and the way I was living._

"_I have to, Esme. I can't live in denial like this anymore. We're killers. Even Isabella knew that. It's why she left. Why should I keep living like this if even the person who made me this way doesn't believe we can be any different?" I asked with a shrug, crossing my arms over my chest._

"_But we can be," she said. "We _have_ been."_

"_But we shouldn't be!" I yelled, whirling around and throwing my hands out. "We're _vampires_, Esme. We're supposed to kill _humans_. Every time we don't we fight against who and what we are. I'm not doing it anymore."_

So, I decided to leave and finally live as a vampire should. I would live off the blood of humans, but I would use my ability to make sure the people weren't innocents. Only the lowest of the low would be my victims. I would be living in the way I was intended without hurting people who had done nothing to deserve the painful death I would give them.

The man in front of me, the man who had wronged Esme, was my next target. She had told Carlisle and I about her time with him, how abusive he was to her before she ran away. This man was her husband. In my mind, he was less than a man. Anyone who would hit a woman like Esme was less than human.

"Charles," I said, standing in front of him. He raised his head slowly, almost falling over in his drunken state.

"Who're you?" he mumbled, blinking hard. I tried focusing on his thoughts, but they were so jumbled, I almost knew how it felt to be drunk.

"Doesn't matter to a dead man, does it?" I said, lunging for him. He was dead before he could scream.


	28. Chapter 27

_Chapter 27: Edward_

_1931_

The man in my arms writhed and gurgled as he tried to free himself, calling for help with a throat that could no longer function. One a few more seconds passed before he fell unconscious and his heart stopped. I pulled my mouth from his neck and took a small shard of metal from the alley's floor, jabbing it into his neck right where my bites were and eliminating their presence.

I wiped my mouth with my thumb as I glared down at the sick man, glad to be the reason the world was rid of him. If God existed, I always believed He should strike down those who touch children as soon as the sick thoughts cross their minds, but it never happened. A young girl walking home from school with her little sister was his next target, and the sister he thought to save for later. That was his last thought before he focused solely on trying to survive. A useless endeavor, but he didn't know that.

Something still bothered me, though, something that came about with all of my kills, no matter how sick or lowly the person. As they died, faces would appear in their minds, and, by default, in mine. Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, all of them would flow rapidly through their minds. Everyone the people ever cared about or had care about them looked at me through memories with looks of sadness and despair, as though they knew what I had done.

"You are regretting their deaths, aren't you?" a _very_ familiar voice asked from the alley opening.

Isabella was backlit by the streetlamps, making it slightly difficult to make out her features in the darkness. I wouldn't have had any trouble if the lights had been out, but I knew every aspect of her face by heart. I could see her heart-shaped face, long brown tresses, and dark silver eyes. High cheekbones, round chin, small nose, I could see it all in my head.

"Isabella," I whispered, still shocked at her sudden appearance. I hadn't seen or heard from her since she left us a decade ago.

"You regret their deaths, don't you?" she asked again, not coming any closer. I hung my head and looked off to the side in shame.

"You know you don't need to do this to yourself, or to them," she said quietly, her voice dripping with disappointment. "Carlisle and Esme would take you back with open arms."

"I've spilled too much blood, Isabella. I can't go back to them now," I mumbled, still looking at the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut, resisting the urge to look at her. I couldn't let her see my face, my eyes red from the blood of humans.

"Then don't spill anymore," she pleaded. "Stop now. Go back to feeding on animals, and go back to Carlisle and Esme. They care about you, Edward."

"Not like this, they won't."

"You don't know that."

"Don't I?" she asked, making me look up. She still hadn't moved, but I could imagine one of her thin eyebrows raised slightly at my assumption.

"It's your decision, Edward. Keep fighting who you are on the inside and keep spilling human blood, no matter how tainted, or go back to two people who deeply care about you and your well-being. I have to go, but I really hope you make the right decision."

"Isabella, wait," I called, taking a step forward and raising a hand towards her. "Where are you going? Why did you leave?"

She paused, half-turned away and finally giving me a look at her face. She was tired, her face drawn and tense. The silver of her eyes had grown darker in the past ten years, losing the faint sparkle they had had back then. I remembered one of Carlisle's early memories of her, mentally noting the change from the bright, shining silver he had known to the dimming color I saw.

"Carlisle and Esme are in Pennsylvania. In two years, they'll be in central New York. If you decide to go back to them, they'll be in either of those places." She started walking away again, her shoulders hunched as though in pain, and stopped under the lamplight, Hermes landing on her shoulder farthest from me.

"I can't get close to anyone, Edward. Not you, not Carlisle, not Esme, not while these people are coming after me. I won't let them use the people I care about as bait, and I can only do that by staying away."

They was gone before I could respond, only quickly dying wisps of flame showing they were even there. One part of what she said kept floating about in my head as I stared at the spot she had been in. People she cares about. She cares about us. She cares about . . . me.

I turned my head and looked down at the man behind me. Even as disgusting and undeserving of life as he was, he was still someone's son, someone's friend. My decision was made in only seconds, and I set off for Pennsylvania.

_*E*E*_

The house was quaint, surrounded by large trees whose leaves shaded most of the small clearing the house sat in. It was a cabin with a brick chimney, a small stream of grey smoke flowing out. It looked large enough for a small family, but the only people I was thinking about were looking out at me from the large front window.

Esme had a look of shock, disbelief, and hope on her face, her hands clasped at her chest. Her eyes were moist and she was trying not to smile, but she was mentally rejoicing at my return. Carlisle had a straight face, but his eyes were tense. He was hopeful that I had come back to stay when he saw my orange eyes, but he refused to let himself get his hopes up.

I stepped out of the trees and moved towards the house but stopped half-way to the front door. I looked from them to the door, unsure if I should go in, and hung my head. Esme burst from the door and ran to me, stopping a few feet away. She reached for me and stopped, looking down at my hands and back at my face.

"Edward," she whispered, and I flinched at the hope in her voice. "Edward . . . what are you doing here?"

"I . . . I," I stuttered, unable to say what I wanted. She only smiled and wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my chest.

"You are always welcome wherever we are, Edward. Never doubt that," she said, her voice muffled by my shirt.

She leaned back and put her hands on either side of my face, kissing my forehead with a smile. When she pulled back, Carlisle appeared next to her and put a hand on my shoulder. His smile was relieved, his mind happy.

"We were worried about you, son," he said, and I embraced both of them.

"What brought you back to us, Edward?" he asked a few moments later, as I drew back from them.  
"Isabella," I whispered, looking at the ground. "She found me."

I told them what happened, from finding the man to when Isabella left, and they listened with rapt attention. They were both beaming when I finished, and I couldn't help but do the same.

"Is she coming back, as well?" Carlisle asked, and my face fell.

"I tried, Carlisle, I really did, but she's still stuck on the fact that she thinks we'll be safer without her around. She said she won't let herself get too close to anyone as long as they're coming after her," I explained, shaking my head.

"We'll get her back to us, Edward. She's lived alone for too long. We just have to make her understand that she isn't anymore, no matter how far from us she is." All of us looked up, hoping she had seen us.

_*B*B*_

_Rochester, New York, 1933_

It was happening just as I had seen it. Royce King calling to Rosalie. Her back talking and them ganging up on her, assaulting her even as she screamed and cried for help. Them leaving her for dead in the alley, laughing drunkenly.

As they finally stumbled away, I released my grip on the brick building corner I had used to keep me from running to Rosalie's aid. Pain radiated from my fingertips as I listened to her breathing slow, and I briefly looked at my hand to see my fingers jagged and covered in blood. I activated my rune for a moment, healing the minor wounds as I ran to her side.

"Hang in there, Rosalie," I whispered, leaning down next to her face. "Help is on the way."

Help was ten seconds away, actually, and approaching fast from the smell of blood. I jumped up and ran to the other end of the alley, turning around just as Carlisle bent down next to Rosalie. He stopped his exam of her for a moment, his head whipping around to face me.

"She is important to your family, Carlisle," I said softly. "Save her, just as you saved the others."

"When will you let us save you?" he asked as he gently scooped her up into his arms. I just walked away as his footsteps echoed from the other direction.

_*C*C*_

Rosalie woke with a start, immediately jumping up from the bed I had laid her on three days earlier. Her chest was heaving and she was frantically scanning the room. She was assessing us, that much was obvious, and she wasn't liking what she was seeing.

"He's not here, Rosalie," Edward whispered, his hands up in surrender as her head whipped around to face him. "He can't hurt you anymore."

"She's not here, either . . . I wish I knew," he continued a little louder, a tight smile on his face as he answered her mental questions.

"What . . . happened to me?" she whispered, looking down at her hands in confusion before looking up at me. "What did you do to me?"

"You were dying, Rosalie," I started as quietly as I could. "I saved you, turned you into a vampire so that you could live the life that would have been stolen from you, at least for a little while more."

I blocked my thoughts with images of the scene of her attack, preventing Edward from seeing the recent thoughts I had had about him and Rosalie. Both should have died and Edward was getting more depressed every time he saw or heard Isabella was near. It was unhealthy, his gloomy mood and avoidance of anything relating to a couple. He tried hard to hide his discomfort any time Esme and I were close, but we noticed. I started thinking after I brought Rosalie home that maybe, just maybe, she would be his way out. Maybe she would take his mind off Isabella and he could be happy. I wanted Isabella to be happy, as well, but I had no way of helping her, not right now when she refused to even talk to us.

"I'm . . . I'm a vampire," she repeated.

"Yes. You are immortal, forever looking the way you did on the day you were changed. You are stronger, faster, smarter than a human now, but you will not be able to do many of the things a human woman would, like bearing children," I explained, and as soon as the last words left my mouth, I knew I shouldn't have said them, at least not yet.

"No children," she whispered, looking at the floor.

"The only thing I ever wanted . . . I wanted to marry a man who could take care of me . . . he could take care of me . . . and I would be a mother. I wanted to be a mother . . . but now I . . . can't. I can't . . . and you did it," she whispered, looking up at me again, and I kept quiet so she could sort through her thoughts. I could see Edward's concentration as he attempted to follow along, and I trusted him to see signs of danger before anything happened.

"You did it . . . You changed me into this . . . because I was dying." She paused, her eyes widening with a revelation. "_Royce_ . . . _ Royce_ did this . . . he attacked me . . . left me for dead."

She and Edward were gone before I realized it, both of them faster than the average vampire. Esme grabbed my arm, both of us looking out the window that had been slammed open as Rosalie ran and Edward chased after her. He was our best chance of catching her.

We were left waiting for less than an hour. Their footsteps sounded through the house as we stood at the front door for them, and they calmly walked in, Edward walking right behind Rosalie, whose head faced the ground. Edward put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at me from the corner of her eye, her head turned to the side.

"He can't hurt me anymore. No one can hurt me anymore," she said.

"No, no one can hurt you. We won't let them," I said. She gave me a small smile.


	29. Chapter 28

_Chapter 28: Rosalie_

_Gatlinburg, Tennessee, 1935_

_Edward is such an idiot_, I thought, walking into the woods behind our latest high school.

I just walked out from lunch. We still had half the day left, but I couldn't deal with him anymore. He got a kick out of telling me the thoughts of every single person in the room when they were thinking about me, no matter if they were male or female. I knew every detail of my encounters with them in their thoughts, intimate or violent, but the sad part was these were the only times I really saw a smile on Edward's face. He walked around the house with a frown, hunted with a frown, went to school with a frown . . . he only smiled when he was bugging me, and I couldn't find it in me to tell him to stop.

I was still amazed that Carlisle thought Edward and I would ever be anything more than siblings.

Edward protected and reassured me from the very beginning, but I only felt like I had a brother, not a potential mate, in him. I could see in his face that Isabella—wherever she was—had stolen his heart, and, truth be told, I really didn't want it, not like that. I loved to hate my younger brother, even though he had lived longer and never let me forget that.

He was my brother, so I had no choice but to love him . . . but he wasn't enough anymore. I had the love and affection of family, but not of a mate. Watching Carlisle and Esme as happy as they were only made it worse, and Edward felt the same. It was common ground between us that usually brought both of us out into the woods to walk or hunt to get away, but I wanted that. I wanted someone to be happy with, someone to make me feel whole. I may have been married in my human life, but I was far from happy or complete. I was rich, and it was not the equivalent of either.

As soon as I was out of sight of the school, I took off, running just to run. I wasn't as fast as Edward, but I quickly learned the joys of running. He had described the rush during my first hunt, and I had used it as a means of escape ever since. I could let go of my control, be who I was and not who I had to be to keep up appearances. No one could bother me, and I was free to do as I wanted.

Something shot in front of me, going right across my path so I had to jump in order not to run it right over. I looked in the direction it was heading to see a young woman running deeper into the woods, her long brown hair flowing out behind her. She stopped and turned to face me for a moment, and my mind flashed back to the night I almost died.

Heart-shaped face with sad silver eyes, brown hair falling around a tired face . . . Isabella took off and I followed, running as fast as my newborn body would let me. I started gaining on her but stopped when a loud roar sounded from somewhere off to my left, followed by a cry of pain. I looked back in the direction Isabella had run, but she was gone.

I followed the cries to a small clearing. I gasped as I saw a bear swat at a boy laying on the ground under it, leaving massive cuts across his bloodied chest. The presence of fresh blood tickled my conscience, but I ignored it when he screamed again.

Running straight up to the angered bear, I roared, stopping it from swiping at the boy again. It was confused for a moment and went down on all fours, stomping the ground before getting up on its hind legs again with a roar. I knelt down, putting a hand on the side of the boy's face as I growled long and low. He was barely breathing, and his heart was failing.

"Stay with me," I whispered, and I noticed a strange hum as I touched him. It was a pleasant feeling, something I hadn't felt before. I was scared at first, but it changed to contentment, like—

The bear roared again, swiping its heavy paws at me, but I smacked them away hard enough to make the bear stumble back. The boy flinched and I ran my thumb over his cheek comfortingly, unable to help him until the bear left or I killed it.

All of a sudden, another larger bear appeared behind us, roaring at the first. I kept growling, looking from one to the other and back again, but something was different about the larger one. The first hadn't moved any closer, and I took the time to look at the newest.

It was big, much bigger than the bears we had seen while hunting. It was all black with paws twice the size of dinner plates. The face was sad as it stared down the other, rumbling and moving its weight from foot to foot as its head swung back and forth. I looked over it, and something didn't seem _right_. When my eyes fell on its face again, I realized silver ones were entrancing the first, driving it back without the bear's body doing anything more than just being there.

"Isabella?" I whispered, and just like that, I could see her through the body of the bear. She was standing at its head, her eyes just below the projection's. I didn't know what was going on, but I didn't get the chance to ask.

"Take him to Carlisle," she said roughly, as though she hadn't talked in a very long time. Her bear-image's rumbling got louder as she spoke. "Save him."

She ran forward, her bear following her movements and charging at the first. She raised her hands and the bear went on its back legs, and when she swiped her hands in front of her, so did the bear. She roared and a bear's came from her mouth, causing my vision to blur with the volume.

"Go!" I heard at the end and jumped into action, scooping up the large boy and running full-tilt back to the house.

Edward met me in the driveway, running ahead and opening the door as he called for Carlisle. He cleared the kitchen table with a swipe of his arm and I placed the boy on it. As I did so, I realized he wasn't really a boy but a young man, maybe just out of high school. He had short, curly brown hair and dark brown eyes that stared back at me dully as he continued to gasp for breath. I could hear a gurgling sound as he did so, that and the pink, foamy blood coming from his mouth telling me he was bleeding in his lungs.

"What happened?" Carlisle asked, assessing the young man.

"I was running through the woods and almost ran over Isabella," I started, and Edward's head whipped around to face me. His eyes had a spark of hope in them, but it flickered as though he were struggling to keep it alive.

"She ran across my path and kept going. I didn't know it was her at first, but she stopped and turned enough for me to recognize her from the night I was changed. She ran again and I followed her, but before I caught her, I heard a bear roaring and someone yelling in pain. I looked for her, but she was gone, so I followed the bear sounds and found this guy under a bear. It was attacking him, but I don't know why. I tried scaring the bear off instead of killing it, but it wouldn't go away. Another bear showed up before I decided to kill it, but it wasn't really a bear. It was Isabella."

"What do you mean?" Edward asked as Carlisle continued focusing on the man. "Show me."

I did, and his face screwed up in confusion, quickly followed by amazement.

"She projected a bear over herself to scare the other one away," he mumbled. "How, though? I didn't know she could do something like that."

"She must have a rune for something like that," Carlisle said without looking up. "I remember reading something on the Nephilim a few years back. What you're describing sounds like a glamour, an image she put over herself to change her appearance."

The man coughed and Carlisle mumbled a curse under his breath. He put his fingers to the man's neck and sighed loudly.

"If I am going to change him—"

"Emmett," Edward said suddenly. Both of us looked at him in confusion. "His name is Emmett McCarty."

"Well, if I'm going to save Emmett, I need to do it now. His body is failing, even if his mind isn't just yet." Carlisle looked at me tensely, glancing down at my hand. I hadn't noticed, but I had taken Emmett's hand in mine. I looked at his eyes and the hand I was holding twitched, like he was trying to close it around mine.

"Save him."

_Three days later_

Emmett awoke with a loud "ow," his hand shooting to his chest as he sat up. "What the hell just happened to me?"

"Well, uh," Carlisle stuttered, apparently unnerved by his question. "You were turned into a vampire.

"Like, fangs, blood-sucking, sleep in a coffin vampire?" he asked.

"Yes to the first two, ad no to the third," Carlisle said fighting a smile. "We do drink blood, but we only drink from animals. We do have fangs, but we don't sleep in coffins. We don't sleep at all, actually."

"Where's that bear-girl?" he asked, looking around. "Whatever that was, it was _awesome_."

"We don't know," Edward mumbled, but Emmett had moved on already, looking at me.

"I know you!" he exclaimed, pointing at me with a huge, dimpled smile that I couldn't help but return. "You got that bear away and brought me . . . well, here, I guess."

He looked up to the ceiling in thought, his newborn state very obvious from his lack of concentration. He shrugged off whatever it was and smiled at me again. I took a few steps towards him.

"Emmett, what do you remember from before the bear started attacking you?" I asked, taking his hand. It was so much larger than mine that I couldn't see any part of my hand as his closed around it.

"You have really small hands," he said, realizing the same thing I had. I laughed and shook my head.

"Concentrate, Emmett," I said. "What do you remember?"

"Well, I was at a party with a bunch of friends," he started. "What about my friends and family? Will they know what happened?"

"They will know you were attacked by a bear from the scene in the woods. They'll assume you died in the attack from the blood," Carlisle explained patiently. "What happened at the party?"

"Oh, I got _really_ drunk," he said, laughing. "Someone mentioned that I could probably take on a bear with how big I am, so we decided to go find one. I thought I could, too, but I guess we were wrong."

He looked down at his lap, where he was playing with my fingers. I was about to comfort him when he suddenly broke out in a smile again. I shook my head and laughed.

"How are you so happy? You just died and came back to life as a vampire, and you'll never be able to see your friends and family again," I asked, happy he wasn't upset but still confused. His shrug didn't really answer me.

"What's with my throat?" he asked, trying to clear it.

"You're thirsty," Carlisle said, apparently happy something was going the way it should. "Rosalie, will you and Edward take him hunting?"

I looked to Edward, who nodded once. I moved away from the bed, where we had moved him after Carlisle had started his change, and he got up, my hand still clasped in his. The three of us walked out the back door, passing Esme, who had been quietly standing in the doorway the whole time. She went to Carlisle as we walked out, and I could imagine her smiling as she had when Edward had taken me for my first hunt.

Emmett took to hunting like it wasn't his first time, taking down a bear slightly smaller than the one that had attacked him. I could see him remembering as he looked down at the body once he had finished, and he flinched when I touched his arm.

Edward stayed back, not wanting to make Emmett feel threatened by the presence of another male. He looked sad whenever I saw his face, but he would give me a small smile when he noticed me watching him. I could see him drawing away from me, even in the few hours we were in the woods. When we got back to the house, he went straight up to his room without a word.

_*Em*Em*_

_I _love_ being a vampire!_ I thought, throwing my hands out as I sped ahead of Rosie and Edward.

It was four months after I had been changed, and I had never been happier than I was with Rosie. She had been there since my attack and hadn't left my side. We had a connection neither of us could put into words, and Edward had told me Rosie looked a lot happier than she had before Carlisle changed me. She showed me how to hunt and explained everything I didn't understand. She had a lot of patience with me, and she didn't make me feel like an idiot. And she was beautiful. Really beautiful.

I was running through the woods behind the house. I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going, but I somehow managed to miss all of the trees I was flying by. I didn't understand how, but I figured it had something to do with my enhanced abilities. Carlisle mentioned speed, grace, and strength (not that I needed more strength), so I guess that was another.

The trees broke suddenly, and I stopped in the backyard of a small cabin. A young woman was hanging clothes on the line to dry in the late summer sun, but I couldn't see what it was she was hanging. I couldn't focus on anything but the light rise and fall of the vein in her neck. My hands were on her shoulders and my mouth at her neck before I registered someone calling my name.

"Emmett, let her go," someone said from behind me. My vision turned red and I growled as I drank, my grip tightening on the fragile woman's arms.

"You don't want to do this, Emmett. Let her go," she said from behind me.

Something pulled the girl from me, and as I grabbed for her, my hands hit an invisible wall. I roared in frustration as the girl's body floated to the ground and turned to face the intruder. I recognized her immediately.

"Isabella," I whispered in shock.

I looked down at my hands as I finally caught up with everything that happened, a wave of shame washing over me as the blood on my skin mocked me, glistening in the setting sunlight. I tried wiping it off on my jeans, but my pale skin was stained by my actions. My knees hit the ground with a muffled thud as I realized what I'd done.

Isabella's hands wrapped around my wrists, stopping me from trying to wear away the skin off them. She turned them over so we could see my palms and placed one of my hands in both of hers, whispering a few words before doing the same to the other. They tingled for a few moments, and the blood disappeared before my eyes.

"Learn to stand by falling down, Emmett McCarty," she whispered, placing my hands in my lap and looking at my face. I got a chill from the emptiness I saw in her eyes, and the small smile only made it worse. I could tell she had once been full of life, but something—or many somethings—was slowly killing her. It was as though I were looking into a shell, not a living being.

"Use those who care about you to stand up again. Never give in." She stood and I followed her movements. She looked behind me just as I heard footsteps rapidly approaching.

"What about my eyes?" I asked, frantic. I couldn't let my Rosie see me like this.

"Motivation to learn from your mistakes. She will understand, Emmett, I promise you that. Let nothing dampen your spirit, young one," she said, and she took off into the woods.

"Isabella!" Edward called as Rosie kneeled next to me.

"Emmett, what happened?" she asked, but I didn't answer right away. For some reason, I couldn't help but think she told me all of that because it was what happened to her. And then I thought who was helping her stand up again?


	30. Chapter 29

_Chapter 29: Alice_

_Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 1948_

The diner was mostly empty as I sat at the end of the counter, my feet hanging above the barstool's footrest. Rain was rhythmically falling outside, setting the stage for the meeting about to take place. It was probably the reason no one was out and about to eat in the diner, but I knew of one person who would be coming in. Only one more minute and he would walk through the door, setting off the bell above.

I had seen this happening only days after my change. That was twenty-eight years ago. I was excited yet scared of meeting Jasper Whitlock, but I knew it would work out.

The diner's brass bell chimed happily as he came in from the depressing rain. I didn't turn around, but I imagined him shaking the water from his blond hair and looking around for where to sit. His footsteps came towards me and he sat down on the stool to my left with a soft sigh.

"You kept me waiting long enough," I said lightly, looking down at the glass of water in front of me with a smile.

"My apologies, ma'am," he answered, and I turned to him.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked, still with the big smile on my face. He looked at me, surprised.

"Yes, ma'am."

I took his hand and he flinched before returning my grip. I jumped down from my stool and waited for him to follow, him giving me a small smile as I did so.

"We have a lot to talk about," I said as we walked back into the rain.

"Like what, ma'am?"

"Well, the first thing is to stop calling me ma'am. I won't spend the rest of eternity hearing that from you, _sir_. My name is _Alice_," I said teasingly, and he ducked his head in embarrassment.

"My apologies, ma—Alice," he said, correcting himself before he did it again. I giggled, and his smile grew. I looked at him and he flinched, fumbling with his shirtsleeves.

"Why do you do that?" I asked with a tilt of my head.

"Do what, Alice?" He looked away from me, his hand still pulling at his shirt cuffs.

"You flinch whenever I look at you. Why?"

"It's nothing," he mumbled, and I huffed, stopping us and turning towards him.

"Something can't be nothing if it's something, and I know this is something and not nothing, so spill."

"U—uh," he fumbled, visibly trying to catch up with me. I laughed again, and his look of confusion gained a half smile. I grabbed one of his wrists in both of my hands and he flinched again.

"Tell me, Jasper," I said more slowly. "Nothing you can say is going to drive me away. I've waited too long to leave now. Besides, I have my own baggage, not that I can remember what it is."

"What?"

"I don't remember my human life," I said softly, giving him a small smile. "I remember a young woman's voice from my change, but nothing else. I found a piece of paper on my chest with the name Mary Alice Brandon on it, so that's the name I've been calling myself."

"That has to be hard, not remembering who you were," he said, and I shrugged.

"I wouldn't know. I don't know what I don't remember in order to feel pain about not remembering it. I'm more curious than anything," I said, my voice perking up. "What about you?"

"My story is too long and bloody for your ears, Alice," he said with a shake of his head. "All I will say is that a young girl found me after I had been wounded during the Civil War. The girl left me for a vampire to find me and I was changed. My sire trained me to fight for her in the Southern Wars, and I left her not long ago. I had shed too much blood."

"What was her name?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

"Isabella," he answered, and I jumped into a vision.

_A young girl was sitting on a stool on a small stage, a microphone in front of her mouth. I couldn't hear what she was saying, but I could tell from the way she closed her eyes that she was singing something very emotional._

_She was beautiful. Her long brown hair fell around her face as she put her hand on the mic, leaning her head to the side very slightly. Her face was soft, but something about her spoke of an ages-old soul. When she opened her eyes, I saw they were a dark grey. They were so dull . . . so lifeless. I was pulled from her eyes when her voice suddenly sounded, like the sound was turned on:_

For a while, if you don't mind, let me be myself

So I can shine with my own light, let me by myself!

Would you one time, ooh, let me be myself and let me be me?

_Her voice was heart wrenching as she pled, and I recognized it as the same one who had distracted my attacker long enough for me to be changed. She was the one who had caused me to become a vampire, and apparently she also kept Jasper alive long enough for his sire to find and change him._

"She's the same girl," I told Jasper, who immediately looked confused. "I just had a vision of the girl who spoke during my change, and I think she's your Isabella. Long brown hair, heart-shaped face, sad grey eyes?"

"Yes," he said with a nod, "but last time I saw her, her eyes were silver, not grey, and she wasn't terribly sad. Did you say you had a vision?"

"Yes, it's the ability I had before I was turned. It's stronger now, but they still change with peoples' decisions. What I saw was many years into the future. She was singing into a microphone, but it was a lot smaller than the ones we have now. I would say it's roughly sixty-four years from now, give or take a few months, and from the words of her song, she's definitely sad about something."

"I wonder what would happen to make her like that?" he asked.

"I don't know, but we're supposed to meet up with another group of vampires in exactly two years. Maybe they'll have seen her and we can ask them," I said, shrugging one shoulder.

"Maybe."

_1950_

The house was quiet as we approached, but I had warned Jasper of that beforehand. The last thing I wanted was for him to get too nervous or defensive and put the others on their guard. We were supposed to join them, not threaten them, but he was very antsy around new people.

"They'll be standing in a line outside the front door, and the mind-reader will be on the right side of the coven leader," I explained quietly, using my words and my hand in his to try and keep him as calm as possible. I tried to be calm myself, and it was easier seeing that everything would work out as long as nothing changed. He nodded and squeezed my hand as we slowed from a run to a walk, breaking through the brush.

They were poised just as I expected them to be, with the three males in front of the two females. A blond man stood in the center, with a muscular brunette on his left and a reddish-haired guy on his right. A caramel-haired female stood behind the red-head and the blond, and a very light-haired blond was behind the big brunette. All but the caramel lady and the blond man looked at us with suspicion.

"Welcome, friends," the blond man said. "My name is Carlisle Cullen, and this is my family, my wife Esme, my daughter Rosalie, and my sons Emmett and Edward."

"Oh, I know who you are," I said, clapping wildly. "See? I told you it would be okay! Everything is happening just as I saw it."

Jasper smiled tightly, obviously not ready to let his guard down just yet, and neither was the red-head. He and Jasper were staring each other down, and I could feel Jasper's anxiety leaking out. I put my hand on his arm, but he wouldn't even glance at me.

"Edward, can you please calm down? I know you see Jasper playing out fights, but it's only in his nature. He feels your nervousness about his thoughts, and he feels nervous about your nervousness. If the two of you keep going like this, one of you is going to attack," I explained quickly, not taking my eyes from Jasper's face or my hand from his arm.

"Jasper doesn't want anyone to get hurt. He just wants to protect us. Right, Jasper?" I put my free hand on the side of Jasper's face, rubbing my thumb back and forth. He eventually twitched his head in what was supposed to be a nod.

"Edward, please," I heard Esme whisper behind me. I didn't take my eyes from Jasper's, but I knew when Edward backed down because Jasper almost immediately began to relax. He was never fully relaxed around anyone but me, but he wasn't about to attack anymore, either.

I gently wrapped my arm around his waist and slowly steered him closer to the Cullens. He kept as calm as he could, and I helped as much as possible by letting him feel my own.

"My name is Mary Alice Brandon, and this is my mate, Jasper," I said, putting my hand on his chest and looking up at him. Jasper actually looked down at me with a small smile, and I flooded him with happiness and support. He looked back up at Carlisle Cullen and offered his hand.

"Confederate Major Jasper Whitlock, sir," he said with a nod. Carlisle clasped his offered hand tightly and with a large, welcoming smile.

"Finally, another old soul," Carlisle said with a chuckle. "Welcome to our home, my friend. Welcome."


	31. Chapter 30

_***Warning: To anyone with connection to the Sandy Hook shooting in Connecticut last week, this may be a touchy chapter for you. I had the events of this particular scene planned out from the very beginning of this story, but now it happens to come at a difficult time for some. Please know I am very upset by what happened and wish we had 26 fewer angels in Heaven than we do today, and the events in this chapter are not meant to offend or further upset any of my readers.**_

_**To those lost that day, fly high and free.**_

_Chapter 30: Edward_

_Forks, Washington, 2007_

Forks, Washington, also known as the ultimate playground for vampires. I kept getting the feeling the sun forgot to shine on Forks. These people were lucky in the rain stopped for a few days a month, but, then again, they never had to worry about a drought or brush fire, either. Everything was too green and alive. I found some irony in that.

We had only been here for one month so far, but I already found myself wandering into the forest surrounding our house. The entire house had been christened many times over by each of the couples I lived with, so I tended to stay in a clearing a few miles from the home until I thought it was safe. I thought wrong a number of times, immediately turning back once I heard a whisper from someone's mind coming from the house.

Today was another day of spending eight hours listening to the juvenile thoughts of high schoolers who had no idea what the real world looked like or what was in it. Their thoughts circled around ogling my siblings and me, and then insulting us to make themselves feel better. I tried my best to tune them out, but the high volume and large number of thoughts made it difficult sometimes. I was getting better, but I didn't know how many more times I could involuntarily watch one of these children fantasize about any of us. It was disturbing, and with a perfect memory, not something I was able to forget easily.  
"Edward? Edward, let's go," Alice said from next to me. I looked at her blankly, and her brows furrowed.

"It's time to leave, Edward. Lunch is over. Are you alright?"

"Yes. No. I don't know," I said as I grabbed my bag from the floor. "I'm not okay, but nothing's wrong. I just . . . am."

We stood from the table and Jasper wrapped his arm around her waist. I felt a pang in my chest at the sight, a common occurrence ever since Jasper and Alice came to us more than fifty years ago.

When I saw the two of them, how accepting Alice was of Jasper's past and how willing she was to help him deal with it, I found myself longing for someone I could do that with. I wanted someone I could talk to about my problems, someone I could spend my free time with so I wouldn't feel alone. I knew who I wanted it to be, who it should have been, but no one had seen or heard about Isabella since she distracted Emmett's bear attacker. She just seemed to have disappeared.

"Oh, we are _so_ going to Portland tonight. You need to get some of . . . _that_ out of you before it gets contagious," Emmett said, gesturing to my whole body with a wave of his hands. I just shook my head in response, but a line of music floated through my head.

"_I'm here without you, baby, but you're still with me in my dreams, and tonight, girl, it's only you and me . . ."_

"Okay, on to class before you fall catatonic," Jasper mumbled as he and Alice walked by, him grabbing me by the shoulder and steering me out of the cafeteria. He flooded me with calm, but I wasn't really feeling anything to begin with.

I thought about our previous visits to the Treble Karaoke Bar in Portland. It wasn't in the best area, but we had made it a routine to go every Friday since we arrived. I knew it was my siblings' attempt to distract me, but I went along with it anyway. Music truly was my only get away, as every book I read had some kind of link to Isabella or relationships. Most of the people who sang were drunk, so it wasn't much of an entertainment venue in that sense, but we enjoyed watching the antics of the humans.

"Alright, everyone, where did we end yesterday?" Mr. Banner asked. He was the Forks High biology teacher, and one of the only teachers to actually know and care about his subject, even if his students were less than enthused.

"Ah, yes, we were starting the reproductive system," he announced, looking up from his day planner.

_Why, dammit_, I thought, rubbing my forehead with the heel of my hand.

I grabbed my notebook from my bag, which was sitting on the empty chair next to me, and faked paying attention for the rest of class as I looked out the window. Mr. Banner had tried catching me when I wasn't paying attention, but I just picked the answer from his thoughts. He stopped by the end of the first week.

When the bell rang, I walked out of the school and to my car, skipping my last period. It was only a study hall, and I knew where my mind would wander to—or _who_—so it wasn't worth the mental assault to stay. I heard a human girl looking around for me as it was, so I was glad I left.

I climbed into the driver's seat and felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I had a message from Alice, asking me where I was going.

"No idea," I started writing, but I suddenly erased it and wrote "Home."

"Tanya will be there. She wanted to surprise you with a visit," she wrote back, and I groaned. At least I would be distracted by trying to hold off her advances.

I put my phone away without answering and made my way home, actually driving the speed limit to avoid being stuck at the house with Tanya by myself. She and the rest of the Denali coven had been our allies and friends for decades, and ever since day one, Tanya Denali made it obvious that she would continue to pursue me until one of us found our mate. I, of course, was less than pleased with this, and when I explained myself to her, she just brushed me off.

My phone vibrated again, and I took out my phone to find another message from Alice: "Don't worry, things will change for the better very soon."

"What do you mean?" I sent back, but my phone was still and silent the rest of the way home.

I pulled up in front of the house and Esme stepped out, her mind apologizing as she greeted me like nothing was wrong. I gave her a small smile, letting her know I understood, and stiffly walked towards the living room where a familiar mind persistently called to me.

"Oh, Edward! It's so good to see you again!" she screeched, jumping up and wrapping her arms around my neck. I patted her back lightly, trying not to encourage her to hug me longer, and she finally let go.

"I don't look any different from the last time you saw me, Tanya," I mumbled, but she ignored me.

"Do you have any plans tonight? I was hoping we could go out and catch up," she said, wrapping herself around my arm.

"I do, actually, so maybe some other night," I said, hoping she wasn't listening again. I couldn't be so lucky.

"Oh, really? Where? I can just come with you," she declared, and I fought against an eye roll.

"We're going into Portland tonight, but you wouldn't enjoy yourself," I said, and she squealed.

"But of course I would! As long as I'm with you, I _know_ I'll enjoy myself. Besides, I can use the time to catch up with the others, as well."

_Not that you really care about what's going on with them_, I thought.

I didn't answer, freeing myself from her grasp as Esme invited her into the garden to talk and escaping to my room before she could attack again. I immediately went to my stereo and turned it on, playing whatever was already in it as I fell onto my couch. The others would be home in about a half hour, and I couldn't wait to leave.

*B*B*

The year was 2007, and I again found myself living in a cabin outside civilization. Not outside like a backwoods hermit, but definitely outside the small town's boundary lines. I lived off what I was able to grow or find by myself or with Hermes' help, but I went into town whenever I could to keep up with the times.

The Calawah River had been my home for the past few decades now, basically since the last time I saw any of the Cullens. That was back in 1935. I left for a few years every now and then when my glamour-self reached an age where I couldn't have still been alive. It was how I stayed in one town for so long, making myself age through glamour. In fact, I had just moved back after fifteen years. I had occasionally stayed at one of the Nephilim schools for a night, claiming to be travelling—which I usually was—and would join them on a mission if one came up, but I never stayed. Luckily, no one asked too many, or the right, questions about me.

As I wandered around the perimeter of my cabin, I counted the runes and spells I had placed on the trees surrounding my cabin. They were actually on trees as far as one mile from my front door, with ten feet between each marked tree. The rune was a cloak, making sure no one would see my cabin or any signs of human life if they happened to stumble onto my property, and the other was a spell I could use to sedate those who had wandered up and were injured or disoriented. I healed whatever was wrong with the person and directed them back out of the forest without them having memory of what happened except for the presence of my rune and spell marks, since anyone in the forest could see them.

The funny part of this was the folktale that came out of this. People would be found wandering through the woods, remembering being injured in some way and no longer being injured when they came out, and the only thing strange anyone could find were my carvings in the trees. Thus, the tale of the Witch of Calawah River was born, the helpful woman who lived in the woods and helped weary, wounded, or lost travelers find their way home.

Well . . . okay, then.

I shook my head as I got in the car and drove down the dirt road leading to the main street through Forks. This was yet another thing I had to glamour so that no one knew it was there but those I told. It was how that one worked: if you knew the road was there, then the road was there. My glamour was the same way, but no one in the area knew me anymore to see through it. Besides, I was back to my normal eighteen.

Going to work was something I would have to get used to again, especially when I was working with other people. Every mission I had gone on before 1935 I had done by myself, but now that my visions had slowed, I started helping the schools with larger-scale missions. The one I was going on tonight was a vampire roving around Portland and attacking drunks. It was a smaller scale than usual, but I was trying to keep myself busy so I couldn't dwell.

Hope was always bubbling just below the surface that I would see at least one of those familiar faces again, just one of the seven that had finally been united so many years ago, but they evaded me. Even when I used a spell to look for them in the future, I saw nothing but scenery. I knew they were still alive, but not why I could never see them.

I went in through the front door, still mulling over possible explanations, and almost ran right into someone. He wasn't an old man, probably in his fifties. He was rather large, like he visited a gym often. I walked around him before he could speak, the breath leaking from his open mouth reeking of cheap beer.

Looking out over the crowd, it was hard to pick out certain people who could possibly be other than what they seem. Human, that is. I could usually smell them or see the red in their eyes, but with so many people in such a small space, I couldn't concentrate on anyone long enough to know for sure.

I was about to walk over to the bar when a vision literally exploded in front of my eyes. I was looking down the sights of a gun focused on a woman walking with her daughter right outside the bar. There was a loud bang, and I was suddenly following the spiraling bullet in slow motion as the gun was forced downward, the sights no longer on the mother but the space right in front of the unsuspecting girl.

It ended just like that and I was running out towards the door, hearing a mumbled "Stop her" behind me. I made an immediate left and saw the man pointing the gun at the woman, someone appearing behind him to knock the gun from his hand just as it went off and I knelt in front of the girl, drawing her to my chest and off to the side, out of the path of the bullet as it ripped through me.

Everything seemed to freeze as a sickening crack of bone on concrete echoed from across the road, and even the cars came to a stop. The girl's mother was kneeling next to me, trying to pull her daughter from my arms, and I let her go after a moment. She seemed okay as she clung to her mother's shirt, crying and looking at me with shock. I thought I told her she was okay, but I couldn't remember hearing the words.

Her mother pointed to my chest, right next to my heart, and I looked down, finding a hole with pink foam coming out as I breathed in and out. I looked down at it with detached amusement before I slowly fell to the side and blacked out.


	32. Chapter 31

_Chapter 31: Edward_

_Portland, Oregon, 2007_

I froze as I watched the bullet effortlessly pass through Isabella's body and into the wall in front of her. I heard a sharp crack from across the street, where Jasper had gone after the shooter, smelled the blood from both Isabella and the man, but my eyes were focused on Isabella as the woman took her daughter from Isabella's arms. The little girl was fine, in shock, but fine. Isabella was not.

Pink blood foamed from the hole in her chest, and as she looked down at her wound, she started falling forward. I rushed to catch her, falling on my knees behind her and gently holding her to my chest. I could hear Alice on the phone over Isabella's irregular breathing, and also the woman standing in front of me whisper "vampire." I ignored her as Rosalie started talking, placing my hand over the hole in Isabella's chest just right to help her breathe.

Her head had fallen to the side so she was facing away from me, but I could see the pale white color of her skin as blood seeped from between my fingers. She still wasn't breathing well and her heart was beating too fast. My chest hurt every time I looked at my hand, the pink stain a stark contrast to the white of my skin. I kept waiting for her to heal herself, for her to suddenly stop bleeding and breathe normally, but it didn't happen.

"Why isn't she healing?" I whispered, trying not to move her too much. Carlisle had told me about her runes, but the one on her left arm wasn't doing anything. He said they would glow faintly when they were activated, but this one still looked like a faint scar. It wasn't working.

"Edward, let's go!" Emmett called from behind me. "Carlisle's meeting us at the hospital. Get in the car!"

Someone touched my shoulder and I flinched, turning towards them with a snarl. Alice wasn't fazed, leaving her hand on me and pointing at Isabella.

"We need to get her to Carlisle before it's too late, Edward," she said calmly. Emmett will drive us back to Forks, but you need to get in the car."

"They're vampires! Don't let them take her," someone shouted from behind me, I turned towards the voice and snarled, baring my teeth at the crowd. All of them flinched back but one, the little girl Isabella had saved. She stepped forward, even as her mother grabbed at her coat to pull her back, and looked at Isabella.

"What's her name?" she asked, looking up at me without fear. Her eyes were a sharp, intelligent blue. Her mind was full of genuine curiosity and concern.

"Isabella," I said, calming down as I listened to her mind.

"Oh, that's pretty," she exclaimed, making me jump. "Are you taking her to the doctor now?"

I nodded, and she smiled. Her round face was bright with happiness, even in the wake of the events that had just occurred. She seemed to ooze calm like Jasper, with her innocence and curiosity.

"My name is Anna. Can you tell her I said thank you when she wakes up?" I nodded again, and Alice gave the little girl a piece of paper, patting her on her shoulder and steering her back towards her mother. She waved over her shoulder at me and I gave her a small smile, shocked at the entire conversation.

"Come on, Edward," Alice whispered hurriedly, "before they try to stop us."

I stood carefully and rushed to the car, trying not to jostle Isabella as I got in and Alice slid in next to me. Emmett hit the gas and we flew off into the traffic, weaving in and out amongst honking drivers and flashing brake lights. We made it back to Forks in half the normal time, but we needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Isabella's heartbeat was becoming more unsteady and her breathing more labored. Alice helped me cover the holes in her chest to create the suction needed for her to breathe, but it wasn't enough with the heavy blood loss. We had all of the car's windows open because of the strong smell of her blood, and she was shaking badly when we finally slid into the emergency drive-way of Forks General Hospital. Carlisle was waiting for us when we got there, his face grim as he took her vitals by listening.

"We need to get her into surgery, Edward," he said as I placed her on the gurney. She started gasping as I took my hands away, and with a nod from Carlisle, I put my hand back over the hole in the front of her chest.

We ran in past the nurses sitting behind the desk and went straight into the surgical wing, Carlisle's nurses rushing to our aid. He started barking out orders as we ran, and they broke from the gurney to fulfill his wishes. He stopped before we entered the operating room, giving me a small, sad smile as I took my hand away and he took her into the room.

*E*E*

She was in surgery with Carlisle for hours, but it felt like so much longer. I didn't have words to describe my feelings during that time, mainly because I didn't _feel_ anything. I heard Jasper's worry, but it was his. I had no worry, I had no fear, no anger, no sadness . . . nothing. Even when she came out of surgery and was moved to the ICU, I felt nothing. The others were worried, for her and for me, but I wasn't.

I was sitting in a chair next to Isabella's bed, my eyes moving from her closed ones to the tube in her mouth helping her breathe to the hump of padding under her hospital gown covering the hole in her chest. I kept thinking, "This woman's been alive and fighting all kinds of monsters for over six hundred years, and one bullet has her on her death bed." It amazed me, but not enough to say, do, or feel anything. It was detached amazement, I guess.

Everyone came to visit while I continued to sit there, Carlisle in his role as doctor, Esme as my mother wanting to check on her son's friend, and my siblings as Isabella's friends, but she never moved. Never changed. Never thought. Nothing. Just like me.

I stood back when Carlisle and one of the nurses came to change Isabella's bandages and check her tube, but I never let her out of my sight, not after having her run from me. If I left to shower or hunt for an hour, I made whoever stayed promise they wouldn't leave her side until I got back. Emmett thought it was funny, making a joke of the fact that she couldn't get up and go anywhere, but he soon learned I didn't share his sense of humor on the matter.

A few weeks after the shooting, Isabella still hadn't woken up. Carlisle had taken the wrap off of her chest, so she only had a gauze pad over her healing wound. It was still open and deep, but her lung had healed and she no longer had the tube down her throat, just the smaller tubes that went in her nose. Her heartbeat was steady, as was her breathing, but she wasn't waking up.

I had taken up the habit of holding Isabella's hand ever since they took the tube out, feeling a small spark from her hand to mine with every heartbeat. Jasper couldn't feel anything coming from her, and I couldn't hear her thoughts, which wasn't a surprise since I couldn't hear them the last time I met her, and Alice couldn't see her waking up.

When she finally woke up three days later, she shot up into a sitting position with a loud gasp as her eyes opened, completely white but for the sign of her visions in the middle. It lasted for only a minute, and she fell back onto the pillows when it finally released her.

*D*D*

"I hope you have good news for me, Demetri," Aro's voice said from my cell's speaker.

"Everything went exactly as planned, but now we have another problem," I said tensely, bracing myself for his reaction. He sighed, but I didn't relax.

"What is it?"

"Not what, Sir, but who," I said, gently correcting him.

"_Who_ then, Demetri?" He was getting impatient.

"The Cullens."


	33. Chapter 32

_Chapter 32: Isabella_

"Breathe, Isabella, breathe! Calm down. You're okay," someone said from beside me.

My body was convulsing from pain as fire exploded in my eyes, a vision ending and one of pure agony beginning. I couldn't sit still, but every movement caused even more pain. My eyes burned from my vision, my chest felt like someone was stabbing me, and my lungs were constricting as I started to hyperventilate. Someone was still talking, but I could only hear and understand a few words, not enough to know what was being said.

"Calm down . . . hurt yourself . . . please," the male voice said again, and I suddenly felt something like ice touch my cheeks. His hands were freezing cold, but I recognized the pulse that went through my body at his touch.

Without thinking, my hands grabbed his wrists, begging him to keep the coolness of his skin against my burning face. My skin was sticky with sweat, and my face was wet with what smelled like tears and blood. I was still gasping for breath, but as I focused on his hands on my face, I was slowly able to gain control of my body and stay still long enough for the pain to die down a little. My eyes still burned and pulsed with the rapid beating of my heart, but the pain in my chest lessened until it was a tolerable ache. Something cool was put over my eyes, and I let out an involuntary whimper of protest as Edward went to draw his hands away. He froze at the sound and left his hands where they were, much to my relief.

"Isabella, are you okay?" another voice asked. He sounded a lot like Carlisle, and my most recent vision of all of the Cullens and I standing in a line in the middle of a field came to mind. That's all it was, but I focused on one little detail: Edward's hand at my waist.

"She's shaking pretty bad, Carlisle," Edward whispered, his breath lightly touching my face.

He was right. My entire body—including my hands, which were still holding tightly to Edward's wrists—was shaking, not enough to cause me more blinding pain, but enough for them to know something still wasn't right.

"Let's give her a few more minutes to settle down, and I'll clean up her face a little," Carlisle said. He took the cool cloth from my eyes, causing the burn to increase slightly, but I was able to keep quiet about my discomfort.

Carlisle mopped the blood from my face as Edward kept his hands on my cheeks, his weight settling down next to me. The bed moved under me to adjust to his weight, causing me to flinch and pain to erupt in my chest. He froze at the sound of my whimper, apologizing repeatedly under his breath as I gasped, trying not to move my chest more than I had to. I was breathing in fits at this point, and something was put over my face. I jumped again, causing a spasm to rip through my chest and a cry to come from my mouth. My eyes shot open as I tried to see what was happening, but all I saw was red.

"Isabella, it's okay. It's just an oxygen mask to help you catch your breath. No one here is going to hurt you," Carlisle said gently, his voice right above me. I didn't completely believe that, but I took Carlisle at his word and tried to calm myself down.

Something was poking at my shield, and I was surprised to feel an empath somewhere in the room. I thinned my shield out and looked at him through his own power, examining his mind like I did anyone else I came across anymore. I heard him gasp from across the room before drawing back, trying to not cause him pain but still make sure of his intentions. I couldn't read his mind, per se, but my shield and a protection spell I put on myself a while ago let me use their powers to gain access to their minds, but only when they were using their power against me or someone protected by my shield.

"Isabella, what are you doing? It's only Jasper. You remember him, don't you?" Carlisle asked, tension obvious in his voice even as he tried to hide it. I did remember him and immediately withdrew.

"He was only trying to help you relax, Isabella. He's an empath. Let him help you so you'll stop hurting," Carlisle pled, but I couldn't, not without being able to see him. The room was silent for a moment except for the hiss of the oxygen mask and my jaunty breathing.

"Before someone speaks and scares you again, I want you to know that my whole family is here with us right now. Edward, Esme, Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett are all here with us, so if you hear someone else talking, it will be one of them." I gave him a jerky nod and heard him sigh softly.

"Do you remember what happened?" he asked, and I jerk-nodded again, a flashback of the shooting popping up and bringing back the feel of the bullet ripping through my chest again.

"The young ones rescued you, Isabella, and brought you to me so that I could perform surgery to save you. You're in the Forks General Hospital now, but no one has been told you're here except for my family and the few Nephilim who work as nurses here. They saw the marks on your body and recognized you as one of their own."

I tensed up at this information, dreading the knowledge that anyone knew who or where I was. Carlisle chuckled and brushed hair from my forehead, touching the corners of my eyes to make me reflexively close them.

"Don't worry, Isabella. They only know what they need to, like how you—a Nephilim—came to be friends with seven vampires. I told them you were there when each of us was changed, but nothing more." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Do you know why your eyes are red like they are?"

I shook my head slowly, actually able to do so without looking like I was having a fit of spasms. I wanted to tell him that the reactions I had been having to my visions had slowly been getting worse and worse, but I still didn't have the ability to talk.

"I remember the last time you and I saw each other and you had a vision, but it wasn't as bad as it is now. Have they been getting worse?" I nodded slowly.

"Can you open your eyes?" he asked, and I did so. The red had faded to the pink tint like the last time, but I could only see shadows. Something was passed in front of my eyes, but I only saw it right before it was out of sight again.

"Isabella, these visions are damaging your eyes. Can you do anything to stop them?" Carlisle asked, but I didn't know how to respond. I knew how we normally ended the effects of a rune, but I wasn't sure if the same thing would work on my permanent ones. We usually would just slash through the rune to break up the lines, but it might not work with mine in the same way.

"She doesn't know, Carlisle," Jasper said, his voice coming from across the room. "She's confused, frustrated, and undecided."

Carlisle sighed heavily a passed the thing in front of my eyes again. This time, I caught it when it was right over my face and followed it out of my sight line. I blinked a few times and the pink faded away a little, but not completely. I could make out Carlisle's features now, though, and he smiled when he saw my eyes moving around his face.

"There she is," he said and I cracked a small smile.

"You've seen better days, my old friend." I sighed in response and he laughed. "You're going to look like Jasper with all those scars. I thought I told you to take care of yourself."

I rolled my eyes and closed them, suddenly feeling exhausted. I felt him take the oxygen mask off me and remove my hands from Edward's wrists, laying them across my stomach. He put the small nose piece for the oxygen back on me and I opened my eyes again. The pink tint was almost gone now, and I could clearly see the pain and worry on Carlisle's face. I tried to give him another small smile and he returned it, gently putting his hand on my forehead.

"You need to rest now. We'll leave and I'll check in on you as I do my rounds," Carlisle said, and I blinked once in response. A light tapping sound came from my left, out of my line of sight, but I watched Carlisle's face.

"Someone is here to see you. He's been checking on you every night."

Edward slowly got up, being as careful as he could to not jostle me, and I resisted the urge to grab for him. I immediately missed the familiar hum, but I was quickly distracted by the sound of flapping wings and a warm lump softly landed next to me. Hermes cooed and rubbed his face against my side, staying right at my hip. I could only give him a small smile in return, even though I couldn't actually see him. Someone sat down next to my bed and sighed softly, but I still couldn't get myself to talk just yet.

"Hermes and Edward will stay with you while we're gone, but I want you to rest. We'll talk more once you have slept, okay?" Carlisle asked, and I blinked in response again, my eyes barely opening back up again. They drifted shut by themselves, and I just couldn't find the energy to open them again. I heard Edward settle back into his chair as a door closed with a quiet click, and I was fast asleep.

*B*B*

I woke up with a start, gasping and trying to sit up, but I fell back when my chest burned from the movement. I didn't remember what had happened at first, but then I felt Hermes sleeping soundly next to me and the nose piece on my face. Slowly moving my hand over my wound, I realized why I was still injured: my rune was gone. The bullet had blasted straight through the center of the mark, and the damage had destroyed the entire thing. It was the smallest of my runes, probably the size of a half-dollar, so the exit wound easily erased it.

_I guess that answer's Carlisle's question about my visions_, I thought, closing my eyes and sighing softly. Something moved next to me and my eyes shot open, my head whipping around towards the noise as I activated my shield rune.

"It's just me, Isabella," Edward said, his hands up in surrender. My rune failed and I groaned as my body slumped against the bed. He stood slowly and leaned over me, his face concerned.

"You okay?" he asked, and I blinked once. His hand moved towards me slightly, but stopped and rested on the bed next to my arm.

"Can you talk now?" I scrunched my face in response, unsure of what to even say, but then I did.

"Hi." My voice was broken and rough, but usable. Edward's face broke out in a smile, and I returned it with a small one of my own.

"Hello. Long time no see," he said with a chuckle. "I wish we had met again under different circumstances, though."

"Me, too. Being shot . . . not pleasant," I said, my voice breaking. He chuckled and shook his head.

"No, I can imagine not," he said. He was quiet for a few moments, but then he spoke up again, his face somber. "You really scared us, Isabella. Carlisle almost lost you a few times in surgery."

"My rune is gone," I said softly, tapping the gauze over my wound. I didn't know what to say in response, so changing the subject seemed like the next best thing. "This was right where it was. I don't have enough energy yet to heal myself by making it in my head, but this would have worked automatically."

"So if you broke your vision rune, you wouldn't have them anymore?" he asked, and I shrugged, stopping midway as my chest flared up again and I gasped. He went to reach for me again and froze, his face both worried and indecisive.

"I'm okay . . . just shouldn't move," I said, and he dragged the chair up against my bed. He fell back into it with a huff and rubbed his hands over his face.

"I have never had a heart attack, but from these past few weeks, I think I know how it would feel," he moaned, and I laughed softly, trying not to breathe too deeply.

"I apologize . . . for the role . . . I played in that." He shook his head.

"You didn't ask to be shot in the one mark that could have saved all of us this worry and pain," he said with a small smile.

"Who have I caused pain?" I asked, my eyebrows scrunching together.

"Carlisle, Esme, Alice, Jasper, Rose, Emmett . . . me." He whispered the last one and continued in a normal tone. "All of us know that we wouldn't be here today without you, Isabella, and to see you hurt and be unable to do anything about it hurts us."

"You shouldn't . . . I've lived for so long already, Edward . . . none of you should feel pain because I'm hurt. It's to be expected with what I do."

"That may be true, but we can't help it. You may have run from us for the past few decades, but we still see you as part of this family, whether you feel the same way or not. We love you, Isabella, for who you are, what you do, and what you've been through to get where you are, and it hurts us to see our loved one in pain."

I was floored, and he could obviously see it from the look of surprise on my face. I had never heard those words. I had never felt like someone's loved one, let alone heard them call me that. My parents had been my trainers, and that was all. To my husband I had merely been an outlet, an object he could do as he pleased with. My baby girl couldn't have even known what love was, let alone say she loved me. I had run from this group—this _family_—ever since I had changed the last of them because I feared getting too close. My vision with Edward's arm around my waist scared me. I didn't know what to do with the information he just gave me, information that was trying to make me question how I lived.

"I . . . I don't . . ."

"You don't have to say anything, Isabella. We just want you to know that we _do_ care about you, that's all. No one expects you to jump up and embrace all of us like long-lost family," Edward said with a shrug.

"Very true, Edward," Carlisle said as he walked in. He looked gave me a small smile. "How are you feeling today, Isabella? I see you can talk."

"Yes, but I can't move very much without causing myself pain," I said shyly.

"That's to be expected. The round used was on the larger side, and it did a lot of damage as it passed through."

"She says it blasted through her healing rune," Edward chimed in. "It's why her body hasn't healed itself, and she's too weak right now to draw and activate it in her head."

Carlisle looked to me for confirmation and I nodded once, telling him everything I told Edward. He listened intently and thought about what I had told him before saying anything.

"You're healing just fine at the moment, Isabella, so I think it would be okay to wait until you are strong enough to heal yourself. Trying to before you are sure you're ready will only set you back," he said, and I nodded a yawn sneaking up on me before I could stop it. I breathed in too deep and my breath hitched. I grimaced in pain and the two of them looked at me worriedly.

"You rest up, Isabella, and we'll see how you feel in a day or so," Carlisle said, putting his hand on mine for a moment before backing up and looking at Edward. "Are you coming?"

"No," I said quickly, looking at a surprised Edward. "He doesn't have to."

"I think I'll stay, Carlisle," Edward said, his eyes not leaving mine.

I hated to admit it—and I wouldn't do so out loud—but I was . . . happy . . . he was staying. I surprised myself with my quick reaction to the thought of him leaving, and for the life of me couldn't think of why. That vision popped into my head again, but I pushed it away. I told myself over and over again that I wouldn't let that happen, and it wouldn't change just because they saved my life. It couldn't change. I could be friendly and talk to him, thank him for what he did, and be on my way when I was well enough. That would be the end.

Wouldn't it?


	34. Chapter 33

_Chapter 33: Isabella_

I was released from the hospital three days after my conversation with Edward, and he stayed with me the entire time. I tried not to talk too much, letting him tell me about what's he'd been doing since he was changed. I talked briefly about some of my missions, but not in much detail. He didn't press, for which I was grateful.

The less I talked, the farther away I would stay. I kept telling myself that as I listened to him and his journey to become a doctor like Carlisle and help people instead of hurt them, like he had for almost a decade. His face got very dark when he told me about those years, but he told me anyway. I just laid there and listened to him, Edward only pausing when a nurse was coming in to check my vitals, even though both of us knew I was fine now.  
Carlisle insisted on me using a wheelchair on the day I was discharged, and he cut down my argument against it by saying it was for appearances. I knew it wasn't, and he knew I knew it, but I didn't fight him. I still hadn't tried healing myself yet, so technically I was still injured.

Edward pushed me out of the hospital in the chair and drove me to their home, the entire car ride silent. After him talking so much while I was hurt, the quiet was almost deafening. I was conflicted on whether or not to initiate a conversation, but decided not to in the end. Carlisle convinced me to spend a night with them before I tried to heal, just in case something were to happen. He wanted to make sure I wasn't alone before I was fully healed. I was sure I'd be fine, but he and Edward wouldn't hear of it.

Esme was waiting outside when we pulled up in his Volvo, and I could see the others looking out from the second-story windows. She opened my door and Edward offered his hand. I took it and he basically lifted me from the car, holding me with one arm and closing the door with the other. I smiled at her as Edward moved my one arm around his neck and then put his arm under my knees. He carried me into the house as Esme rambled on and on about how I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted and how happy she was to have me.

"Can't you walk, dear?" she asked, and I rolled my eyes, looking at Edward.

"I can, but I'm not allowed," I said and she laughed.

"She hasn't healed herself yet, Esme," Edward added. "She can walk, but it hurts. Just ask Jasper. He was there yesterday when Carlisle let her try."

He had me there, so I kept quiet. Esme shook her head and smiled, tapping my foot with her hand as they walked up the front steps. Alice and Rosalie were waiting just inside the door, the smaller of the two almost vibrating from excitement. I was gently placed on the couch in the living room, where Jasper was bending in front of the large fireplace. A flame slowly grew behind him and he turned around, smiling shyly.

"Hello," he said, sitting on the floor in front of the flame as Edward moved to stand next to where I was sitting.

"Hi," I said back, tilting my head and looking over the skin of his arms and neck. "You had some exciting years, huh?"

"You could say that," he said with a laugh. "The Southern Wars were no place for the glamorous, and glamorous I am not."

"So that _was_ you. I had heard rumors of a Whitlock being one of the commanding officers down there, but I stayed far away."

"That was a smart decision on your part. We were killing any of your kind that tried to interfere." He got a faraway look in his eye, and I changed the topic to bring him back.

"Well, you got away and the wars are over now, so everything's okay," I said with a smile, pushing away the memory of my vision. I still hadn't had another explaining why we were standing in the field, but I hadn't looked into it, either. I needed a break, even for only a few days.

"I have Alice now," he whispered, smiling.

"That's right. She's helped you get over all of that, hasn't she?" I asked, and he nodded, looking at the floor.

"I was . . . different after that. I wasn't who you knew, but she made me want to be him again," he said, running his finger along the lines in the floorboards.

"I'm very happy for you Jasper."

"What about you?" he asked, suddenly looking up. I tilted my head slightly in question. "Did you ever find anyone?"

"I didn't look," I answered, trying my best to avoid the question as Edward's face popped into my mind. Jasper gave me a skeptical look, but he didn't press.

"Besides, I have him," I said, gesturing to Hermes as he walked in and sat by Jasper in front of the fire, squawking at me. After a minute, though, he turned and walked directly into the fire and nestled down in the burning embers.

"Here you go, dear," Esme said, breaking Jasper's stare as she came in with a steaming mug and a fleece blanket.

Edward took the blanket from her and carefully draped it over me, making sure it was covering all of me. His care and attention was confusing me after our silent ride to the house, but I figured he would talk when the others weren't around. Not that I wanted to be the person he confided in. I mean, yes, I would lend an ear to a friend in need, but it was a little more awkward with him than with the others. That stupid vision wouldn't leave me alone.

"Thank you," I whispered as Edward took the mug from Esme and handed it to me. A shock travelled up my arm as my hands touched his and I jumped, causing my chest to throb. I covered my wound with my hand, holding my breath until it stopped.

"I'm sorry," Edward gasped, his face twisted with guilt.

"No, don't. I'm fine," I said, letting my breath out and attempting to take the mug again. The shock was there as my fingers touched his, but I resisted the urge to jump. I sipped the tea, trying to make him see I wasn't dwelling on what happened, and he slowly relaxed.

"Why don't we put your feet up and we'll let you rest? Carlisle will probably want to be here when you try to heal," Esme said, and I nodded once, watching her slowly pull the lever on the side of the couch to release the leg rest so I didn't spill my tea.

"Okay, we'll leave you be. Try to rest and just call if you need anything," Esme said, gently patting my shoulder.

Jasper stood and followed her out, placing his hand on my shoulder for a moment. We gave each other a small smile before he walked away, leaving me with Edward, who still wasn't really talking. I took another long sip of my tea, stalling as he came around the back of the couch and sat down at the opposite end, his body turned slightly towards me. I could feel him watching me, but I didn't turn.

"What are you going to do?" he asked in a whisper, and I finally faced him, but only for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"When you're healed, what are you going to do?" he explained, and I mentally sighed.

"Go back home. Wait for another vision. Maybe look for another mission," I said, shrugging carefully. I took another sip, wishing my cup was bigger as the bottom came into view.

"What if you don't have any visions?" he asked. "Will you stay?"

"Don't know," I said with a shrug, then finishing my tea and placing the mug in my lap. "Maybe. I don't know how quickly news of my presence here will spread with what happened."

"It wouldn't matter if you stayed here. We could keep you safe, if you'd let us," he said, bringing up the one topic I _really_ didn't want to talk about.

"I've been on my own for centuries, Edward. I can't just embrace the thought of someone protecting me when I've done it myself for so long," I said, looking at him and shaking my head.

"It wouldn't be like us coddling you, Isabella. You'd be free to come and go as you please, but you'd have people who care about what happens to you and want to help in any way we can. You'd be part of the family, not a charge we've been given to watch over."

"I can't just say yes or no to this, Edward. It's something I'd need to seriously think about, and I haven't."

"I know. I don't mean to push you, Isabella, but this was a close call. I can't help but think if one of us had been with you, we could've protected you and the child. Knowing that I hadn't ever really talked to you about it and then having you almost die . . . I feel guilty, like I should've been there to keep you from being shot." He looked down at his lap and shook his head.

"You shouldn't feel guilty, Edward. This isn't the first time I've gotten hurt, and it won't be the last."

"I can't help it, Isabella. I feel pain when you do. When you felt to the ground, I felt it. When you were in surgery, I felt it. When you woke up screaming in pain, I felt it. I know how bad it was. I could have saved you from that pain, but I didn't."

He was silent for a few moments and I didn't respond. This was something he had to get over himself. I couldn't help him. The irony of the situation? He wasn't really letting me help him.

He waved at my mug and I handed it to him, confused, and he got up, leaving the room. I listened to his almost-silent steps and looked down at my lap, my brows furrowed. I let my head fall back against the couch, trying to figure out what was going on, but I fell asleep almost before I felt him reenter the room.


	35. Chapter 34 Edward

_Chapter 34: Edward_

"You need to try to _convince _her to stay, not force her, Edward," Alice said as I came into the kitchen with Isabella's mug. She was leaning against the counter right next to the sink with her arms crossed over her chest. "You'll only drive her away by trying to force her, and you know it. I've _shown it_ to you."

"I know, but she's not having it, Alice. If I don't try hard enough, it would be just as bad as pushing her to say yes and driving her away. I _need_ her here, Alice. I need to see her with my own eyes and know she is okay," I said, trying and failing at not sounding completely needy.

"This really makes me wish you hadn't seen her dream, Edward. As soon as I saw that happen, I knew this would be that much harder," Alice said, rubbing her forehead with her hand in frustration.

"Let her do what she wants," Rose said from the doorway leading to the hallway. "She didn't save us, so why should we save her?"

I walked away as she and Alice started arguing, unable to listen to it. Isabella was fast asleep when I walked back into the living room, and I put the blanket up around her face. A small smile grew as I took my hands away, and I settled back in my spot on the other end of the couch with my legs crossed Indian-style. I was facing her, leaning against the back of the couch with my shoulder, and just thought.

I felt bad for stressing Alice out so badly, but I couldn't help it after seeing Isabella's dream. It was the night she had woken up from her coma with a vision, and I assumed what I had seen had been the vision. Everyone was standing in the baseball field in a line, everyone next to their mate, and Isabella and I were standing next to each other. We were waiting for something, that I could tell from the looks ranging from suppressed worry to tense calm, but Isabella's mind was focused not on what was coming in the vision, but the two of us. Everything around us seemed to blur and fade until only my hand at her waist was clear. That was it.

I had sat in my chair next to her hospital bed, looking at the image. It was the first time I had seen into Isabella's mind, and I hadn't been able to since then. I didn't know why, but I didn't want to ask her and have her find out I saw her vision, either. She wouldn't take that very well, that much I knew.

I kind of understood Rose's anger, but it didn't mean we had to abandon Isabella when we knew she was going to be in danger. Alice's vision showed someone coming after Isabella not too long after we got her back home—if we couldn't get her to stay with us—but we didn't know how it would end. Isabella knew what was about to happen to Rosalie, but she also knew something worse would have happened had she not waited to save Rose. That was the difference; this was Alice's vision, not Isabella's. Rosalie hated this life, hated that she couldn't have children and a family of her own, but she refused to realize that she might not have what she did now had Isabella disobeyed her vision. She wasn't hostile towards Isabella, but she wasn't willing to go out of her way to help, either.

I sat on the couch looking at Isabella's sleeping face for hours, long after Carlisle returned home from the hospital. I heard him talking with Esme in the kitchen, but I blocked out both their words and their thoughts. I heard their voices fade away as they moved upstairs, and no one bothered me until Alice came in and put her hand lightly on my shoulder. I jumped, not paying any attention to my surroundings, but I didn't take my eyes off Isabella. Hermes flapped his wings as he stepped out of the fireplace, his talons clicking on the hard wood floor. He shook the ashes from his feathers as he moved towards the couch, jumping up and landing softly on the arm. Isabella breathed deeply as he settled himself right next to her, her eyes fluttering open and focusing on me as she slowly woke up.

"How are you feeling?" I asked as she stifled a yawn.

"Don't know yet," she answered, and Alice squeezed my shoulder.

"Give her a chance to remember her name before you start asking questions, Edward," she scolded, and I gave her a glare.

"I's okay, Alice," Isabella said, stretching her legs out as far as she could. "I feel okay. Still hurts, still stiff, but okay."

"Good to hear it, Isabella," Carlisle said, coming into the room and sitting on the coffee table in front of her. "Esme says she told you I wanted to be present when you try to heal, so whenever you're ready you can start. Just call for me."

"Carlisle, you're being just like your son. Let the poor girl breathe," Esme said, coming in with a small plate of lightly buttered toast. "Here, eat this so you have something in you before these men start asking you to do things."

"I don't usually eat, Esme," Isabella said, but Esme gave her a look.

"I know, but humor me." Isabella shook her head and picked up one of the slices of toast, taking a bite and glancing at Esme. She got a smile in return, which seemed to relax her.

"Have you decided what you're going to do, Isabella?"

"Bella, Carlisle, you know that. Only my mother and father called me Isabella," she said, glaring at him playfully.

"My apologies, Bella," he said, but she waved him off.

"It's fine. I haven't decided, but I'm leaning towards going home. I've been living there for years now, and I have everything set up just as I need it. It's what I know."

"Would you be willing to try living here with us?" Alice asked. "Just for a week or two, and then you can decide what you want to do."

I looked at Isabella's face, trying to figure out what she was thinking, but her face was blank. She was looking down at her lap, and Hermes moved himself into her line of site and sat back down. He lightly bumped her cheek with his beak, trying to get her attention, and she gave him a small smile even as her eyes remained blank. She petted the top of his head, tilting her head to the side in thought as he let out a small squawk.

"What do you think, my old friend? Should we go home?" she asked, and he let out a low chirp.

"You want to stay here?" she asked, apparently looking for clarity, and he let out a higher-pitched chirp. She shook her head and sighed before looking at Alice.

"Let me think about it, Alice. We'll stay here tonight and I'll let you know in the morning." She rubbed her chest and grimaced, her breathing hitching somewhat before returning to normal.

"I think it's time we tried getting you back up to par, don't you think?" Carlisle asked with a small smile, and Isabella nodded before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

When she opened her eyes again, each of them was stark white as she drew her healing rune in her mind. We could watch it take shape in her eyes, and I waited for it to finish and freeze as it healed her, just as Carlisle had explained it in the past. When it did, Isabella stopped breathing and her body tensed up. We could all hear movement under the small bandage on her chest, and it was like listening to the cafeteria lunch ladies at the local high school make meatloaf, the squelching and squishing of her muscle reforming and her skin coming together almost making me nauseous.

It lasted only a few minutes, for which I was thankful, but her face was deathly white when she closed her eyes and started breathing again. It was ragged and shallow, but she was breathing. I moved closer, sitting right next to her, and put my hand on her forehead and feeling the familiar shock from the contact. She was burning up, and I gave Carlisle a worried look.

"We need a damp cloth, dear," he said, and Esme ran to the kitchen and back with a damp towel in her hands.

I took it from her and draped it over Isabella's forehead, then took my hands and cupped the sides of her head so that my fingers were at the back of her neck. I knew it would help her cool down, and her breathing actually slowed a little.

"Done," she whispered, her eyes opening only to slits.

I gave her a small smile, the dark grey looking back making my heart hurt. I remembered her eyes as she stood over me, how bright they were, and I remembered Carlisle saying a long time ago that they used to shine with life, sparkle with interest in the world. They were like liquid mercury, but now it was like looking at a rock. Dull, lifeless, defeated.

"Let me take her bandage off and we'll move her into the guest room," Carlisle said, leaning over the arm of the couch and grabbing the corner of the small bandage sitting slightly to the left on Isabella's chest.

I looked away as he brought the neck of her shirt down and tried to take the taped gauze off as gently as he could. I felt him tug her shirt back up when he finally got it off, and I looked at her again. She was on the verge of unconsciousness, and I gently moved my thumbs over the bottom of her jaw. She wasn't focusing on anything anymore and I started humming, trying to get her to give in and rest. Her paleness was scaring me. Carlisle didn't seem nearly as worried, which would normally have calmed me, but not with her.

"Rest, Isabella," I whispered, leaning forward to make sure she heard me. "You're safe here. You can rest now."

"She needs to sleep, and we need to keep her warm. Her body is cooling off quickly," Carlisle said, and I immediately took my hands and the towel away. "She really drained herself just now, and her body is having trouble keeping warm. Bring her into the guest room, turn up the heat, and put her under all of the blankets. I'll check on her frequently, but make sure to call for me if something is wrong."

I nodded and scooped Isabella off the couch, blanket and all, and brought her to the guest room across from mine. It was small compared to the other rooms, but it was actually normal-sized. Alice was already there and threw back the blankets on top of the bed, stepping aside to let me lay Isabella down. She frowned slightly when I set her down and moved away, letting Alice lay the covers back over her, but it disappeared when I moved to lay next to her, keeping the blanket between us so she wouldn't get cold.

"Watch and remember," Alice said, pointing at her head and gesturing towards Isabella. "You'll have faith in my visions about Bella yet, brother."

She walked out and closed the door behind her, leaving me alone with Isabella and Hermes. He jumped up on the bed and burrowed under the covers, and I could feel him heat up even from on top of them. I was happy she had him, especially at times like these when I couldn't help her.

I sighed softly and settled in for a long night.


	36. Chapter 35

_Chapter 35: Dreams and Nightmares_

_Isabella_

I was seeing them all over again. They started as soon as Edward put me to sleep. I fell out of consciousness and woke up in the underground tunnels of London, the sounds of battle ringing out around me. When I looked around, I found myself back in the battle where I let Carlisle change into a vampire.

He and his soon-to-be sire were crouched in front of each other, and I watched in horror as they took the exact same steps as they had the first time, Carlisle landing on his back and the vampire sinking his fangs into Carlisle's neck.

"No!" I screamed, lunging forward to grab the back of the vampire's shirt, but I passed right through both of them. I landed on the ground and scrambled to my feet, turning towards the exit in the hopes that Darrel would come running like he did before.

No one was there.

I lunged again, swinging my fist right at the vampire's face, but with the same result. He kept drinking and drinking from Carlisle, and I screamed as Carlisle's eyes rolled back into his head. I cried out when his chest stopped moving and turned away, my hand over my mouth, but he was right there in front of me again. Every which way I turned, the scene was the same. Carlisle was dead, and his killer was standing over him.

All of a sudden, the vampire turned and smiled, his mouth stained red with Carlisle's lifeblood. He looked me right in the eyes and started to laugh, a deep, chilling laugh.

"You didn't get him this time," he said, his voice echoing. "You saved him before. You failed now."

"I couldn't do anything!" I cried. "I tried! I tried to save him, but I couldn't. I couldn't do anything."

The scene quickly faded away and I tried to catch my breath, swiping at the moisture on my face as Carlisle's dead eyes appeared in my mind. A whole new round of tears started, and I gasped as another scene suddenly appeared.

It was the Galveston battlefield. Jasper was fighting the same soldier dressed in blue that he had two hundred years ago, blocking, parrying, and dodging the same blows . . . getting hit by the same blows.

The sword slid easily through his stomach again, and he bent over the blade in pain and shock. He fell back, releasing his enemy's weapon from his body, and landed on his back with a thud. His opponent ran off towards another battle, leaving Jasper to die slowly.

I ran over to him, landing on my knees and trying to put my hands over the wound. Again, I passed right through his body without him even realizing I was there. Carlisle's death was bad, but Jasper's was so much worse. I had to watch as he slowly bled out, his breaths coming less and less frequently as time crept by. I was bawling by the time his heart stopped, and I bent over his dead body with my arms wrapped tightly around my abdomen.

The sounds of battle faded away and were replaced by mumbling voices, cries of grief, and moans of agony. The smell of sickness hit my nose and I froze, holding my breath as they got louder. I heard the steady beeping of a heart monitor, followed by a flat line farther away.

I didn't want to look up. I knew exactly what I would see as soon as I did. The closest beeping was getting slower, more infrequent.

"We're losing him!" a female voice yelled, and I couldn't help but look up.

I couldn't see the body of the person laying on the bed in front of me, but I knew who it was. I imagined him lying on his back under a thin white sheet, his face shiny with sweat from his fever. When the woman in front of me finally moved to the side, I saw exactly that. I saw his white face shine with fever, and when his heart stopped and his head slumped to the side, I saw his sad, dead eyes stare down at me, asking me why I didn't save him, why he died so young. Why he died alone.

The nurses pulled Edward's sheet up over his head and I screamed. I screamed so loud that I made my own ears ring, and I couldn't stop. I'd run out of breath and inhale just to scream all over again, staring at Edward's covered form.

"No!" I managed to yell as they started wheeling him away, but they didn't hear me. No one did.

"No no no no no," I cried, tears coursing down my face.

The image of Edward's dead face didn't leave me, even as his body was carted away. It was quickly joined by Esme's after her fall, Alice after her attack, Rosalie after her beating, and Emmett after the bear. All bruised, broken, bloodied. All dead. Carlisle's sire appeared again, erasing all faces but his own.

"Did you save them?" he asked, his face twisted in a sneer. I saw his lips moving, but he faded away.

Everything faded away until only blackness was left, and I cried. I cried for every single one of them. I cried for those I hadn't been allowed to save, for those I had to destroy to save others. I cried for everyone and everything.  
I eventually stopped, my body slowly filling with a pleasant, soothing vibration of energy as I managed to calm down. I started to feel numb, wanted to feel numb, but the electricity wouldn't let me. Instead, it warmed me from the farthest reaches of my body to my heart, settling there and slowly swirling around. My body felt warm as I started waking up, but something right next to me was cold. I managed to get one eye open and found myself curled up in Edward's embrace, his body wrapped around mine as though he were trying to keep the nightmares away. I started slipping back under again and panicked, jumping slightly and trying to keep myself awake.

"Shh, Bella. You're okay. Everyone's okay. Rest now. I'm here. No more nightmares," he whispered. His lips were pressed against my forehead, and I could feel them move as he spoke, his sweet breath washing over my face.

And he was right. No more nightmares.

*B*B*

The rest of my sleep was graced with the feeling of security, of having someone's arms wrapped around me to keep the world away. I tried to push it away, to remind myself that I couldn't get close, but it was futile. It felt too nice. I hadn't ever felt the way I did then, and I convinced myself that it wouldn't hurt to give in while I slept. If he kept those nightmares away, I wouldn't fight against him.

I woke up to the sun shining brightly in my eyes, and I turned my head into the pillow next to me. Burying my head into it, I inhaled deeply before I realized something: it was hard, and it was breathing. My whole body tensed and I tried to jump up, but Edward's arms were still around me. He immediately loosened his grip, but he kept his one arm draped over me.

"Calm down, Isabella," he whispered, his voice making a vibrating sound in his chest. "It's just me."

I exhaled roughly, picking my head up to look at him and look away. He let me go, drawing his arms back and maneuvering so that he was sitting on the side of the bed with one leg over the side. He was facing me, and I could just imagine the look of concern on his face. I didn't need to see it to know it was there, especially when I put my arms under me and pushed myself onto my side, letting out an involuntary groan of discomfort. He didn't say anything, but I immediately felt him flinch and lean towards me.

"Stiff," I mumbled, keeping my eyes on the bed under me.

His response was to get up and come around to my side of the bed, helping me into a sitting position with my back against the headboard and a pillow in between so that I wasn't sitting straight up. He leaned forward and grabbed a glass from the bedside table, offering it to me with a small smile. I took it without looking straight at him, but I could see his face fall from the corner of my eye.

"Do you need anything?" he asked as he took the cup from me and put it back on the table.

"No, I just need to stretch," I said, moving to swing my legs off the side of the bed.

He stood to get out of my way and I scooted until I was on the very edge, using my fists to push myself up onto my feet. I immediately swayed from the sudden change in height, and Edward caught me by my elbows before I fell backward. I reflexively grabbed his forearms to steady myself, holding tightly until the world stopped spinning without me before letting go. He didn't do the same, watching my face with concern before slowly loosening his grip.

"I'm okay," I whispered, trying to convince the both of us. I wasn't going to tell him that, though.

He gave me a stiff nod and dropped his hands back to his sides, taking a step back to give me space. I inhaled deeply, the fresh scent of the forest clinging to Edward filling my nose as I lifted my left arm in time with my breath. The muscles were a little tight the higher I lifted it, and I didn't have full range of motion as I gently rotated my shoulder. I flinched once as I brought my shoulder back, as though I were trying to scratch the middle of my back, and I saw Edward do the same in response. I spoke before I could stop myself.

"You're being very quiet," I mumbled, bringing my arm forward again. I kicked myself as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

"What's there to say?" he said in response, watching my shoulder as I continued moving it. "You won't let me in. I'll only get silence or avoidance as answers."

"I can't let you in, Edward," I said, stopping my stretches to watch his face. Now he wouldn't look at me. "I've explained that to you before. It hasn't changed because you saved my life."

"It's not that you can't, Isabella, and you know it. You just won't. You're afraid. You don't realize it, but I know that's how you feel. I'm afraid, too, but I'm at least making the effort. I know it's dangerous, just as you do. Your kind are constantly killing mine without cause, and vice versa. Now, vampires are trying to capture or kill you, but those vampires aren't me. They aren't me, and they aren't my family. You're punishing those who care about you because you're afraid. You know we could help you. You know that we _would_ help you, and yet you keep pushing us away. It seems like you are your own worst enemy, Isabella, not vampires."

"I couldn't think of a response right away, so I turned my head to the side, looked at the floor, and muttered, "It's Bella."

"What?" he asked, rightly confused about the change in topic.

"Friends call me Bella. Enemies call me Isabella." He seemed to find this funny.

"Well, Bella, I guess this is a step in the right direction," he said with a small smile, and I returned it with one of my own. It faltered after a moment, though, and I gently sat back down on the side of the bed. Edward kneeled in front of me, ready for anything.

"What if you're right?" I asked quietly, and he tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"What if you're right about me?"

"Then we take baby steps. We just took the first, didn't we?" he asked, and I shrugged my good shoulder.

"You just have to let me help. The world doesn't rest solely on your shoulders if you let others help you hold it up, Bella." I gave him a small smile and nodded.

"I think the world has tried to crush me so many times that I don't want anyone else under it the next time it tried to come down," I whispered, and he sighed.

"Well, with immortals holding it up, it'll have one hell of a time." I laughed softly and he beamed at me in response, making me shake my head.

"Don't expect me to come running every time something happens, Edward," I warned, and he looked offended.

"I would never. Miss Independent won't just disappear, that much is for certain. You're no damsel in distress, Bella, and none of us will be fooled into thinking such a thing."

Emmett burst through the door at that moment, making me jump and Edward to crouch down into a defensive posture. The brute disregarded his brother's surprise ad scooped me up off the bed, running down the hall and into the living room with me.

"Oh, fair maiden," he cried, resting me on one of his massive arms and half-bowing with his free one. "I have rescued you from that savage beast! How do you wish to thank me, oh princess of Mount Rainier?"

"Put her down, ya big goof," Alice said, materializing next to her brother and smacking him on the arm.

"Aw, come on, Alice. It was funny!"

"Down, boy," she said, one hand on her hip and the other pointing at the floor. Emmett's face fell and he gently set me down, making sure I was steady before taking his hands away. I couldn't help but laugh and shake my head the whole time. Edward came storming out of the bedroom and walked right over to me, his eyes surveying me for damage before he was satisfied and gestured towards the couch.

"So, what do you want to do today, Mother-of-us-all?" Emmett asked, making a sweeping bow in front of me as I sat down.

"I'm going to guess and say this doesn't stop," I mumbled, and Edward chuckled.

"Only when Rosalie can keep him occupied. He has a very short attention span when it comes to most things. You're like a new toy. Give him a day or so and he'll calm down."

"Why is everyone talking about me like I'm a freakin' dog?" Emmett asked, throwing his hand out to the side in exclamation.

"You're the youngest and the easiest to pick on, Emmett. What more do we need?" Jasper chimed in from the corner next to a window. He had a smile on his face, but he wouldn't turn around.

"Ugh," Emmett sighed loudly, and the whole family laughed in response.

_Family_, I thought. _Maybe, just maybe, this is what I needed the whole time?_ I looked up at Edward, who had seated himself on the couch arm right next to me. He was smiling and laughing at his family's antics, a shine in his eyes like I had never seen in him glinting at me. I thought back to his darker days just briefly before looking around again.

_Maybe this is what we both needed._


	37. Chapter 36

_Chapter 36: Demetri_

The cabin was miles outside of the small town I had tracked the girl to. She hadn't been there in about three weeks, and I couldn't find any sign of her being close by. The place smelled like her, though, and all of her belongings were inside. She would be back, I knew that, but I had no clue as to when. I pulled my phone from my pocket and hit the first number in my speed dial.

"Did you find her?" Aro asked, his voice bored. He was tired of me calling with bad news, but we had been collecting information on her from all over the United States. We were sure we'd be able to find her this time.

"I found her current home. She isn't here, but she'll be back. All of her belongings are still inside, and the scents are still a little fresh, maybe three weeks old," I explained quickly. "What are your orders, sir?"

"So the rumor about the runes was true, then," he said, his voice surprised but pleased. "I'm so happy that Nephilim was so generous with his knowledge. I'll have to remember to thank him later before Felix deals with him. Did you have to destroy all of them?"

"Yes, sir. Destroying some revealed others closer to the cabin. I couldn't find it without doing so," I said, nodding even though I knew he could see me.

"She will stay with the Cullens. They'll convince her somehow, I know it. Carlisle has his ways. She'll only return to collect her belongings, and then she'll stay with them." He was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "Burn it down."

"Sir?" I asked, confused by his order.

"She doesn't need it. It's almost time for our final move, Demetri, and I do not want that pest feeling safe anywhere. Burn it down. Give her a message that we're still here. We're still coming for her. Once you do so, come back here and we'll finalize our plan of attack. I want to give her the option of joining us, but I have a strong feeling she will refuse. When she does, she'll go down, along with that traitorous coven. Two birds with one stone, Demetri. The best way to deal with pesky problems."

"Yes, sir. I should arrive within a day."

He hung up and I ran back into town, breaking into the first car I saw that smelled like tobacco and finding a portable lighter in the glove box. I ran back to the cabin and kicked the front door down, knocking over everything I passed as I made my way to the middle of the small home. I grabbed random books and material items and made a pile on the floor before igniting one of the curtains I had grabbed. The bed clothes were next, then the clothes in the closet. By the time I walked back to my pile, the whole thing was burning steadily and charring the wood floor underneath. I smiled and walked out, listening to the steady crackle of the fire.

*B*B*

I woke up bright and early the next morning and walked out the back door, looking up at the sky as the sun slowly rose above the tree line. My shoulder was still stiff, but not painfully so like it had been the day before.

I started doing stretches, working on my feet and legs before eventually getting up to my shoulder. It still didn't hurt, but I definitely didn't have full range of motion just yet. I'd need to keep stretching it and maybe have a short shadow-boxing session or two before I was close to normal again. Emmett had asked me yesterday why I didn't just use my rune to finish healing, but I didn't want to waste the energy. Besides, the pain and stiffness reminded me of my morality with injuries. I needed that every now and then.

Shadow boxing followed my stretches, and I went right into my normal routine, fighting through my stiffness to complete each stance, dodge, block, counter, and attack. My movements eventually became more fluid, but I could feel my heart beating much more harshly.

My scar pulsed a little in aggravation as I struck out with my right leg, moving it from behind me in a sweeping motion meant to make contact right across the face. I almost fell over when a face was suddenly there for me to hit, but Edward dodged and punched towards my lower back, exposed with my momentum carrying me around so that my back was towards my assailant. I used that speed and kept going, tumbling away from him and spinning on my right foot to sweep his feet. He managed to jump over my leg and grab me by the ankle, but I spun on my hands to bring my other foot up and kick his face. He dropped my ankle in surprise and I jumped to my feet, staying crouched and waiting to see what he would do next.

"You fight very well," he said, standing up straight and looking at me in surprise.

"I was trained to fight as soon as I could walk, Edward, and I've been fighting all kinds of beings for the past six hundred years. If I wasn't good at it, I wouldn't still be here," I said, standing up and rotating my shoulder back. It was moving fairly freely now, and I pushed it back to try and stretch my pectoral muscle where the bullet had done all of its damage.

"I know, but I don't see you as this . . . this . . ."

"Badass evil monster killer?" Emmett supplied, and I shook my head.

"For lack of a better term, yes," Edward said, his face showing obvious annoyance.

"That's half the reason I'm so good at what I do. Those I'm after don't see me as a threat, nor do they know me as the 'qui numquam moriantur,' the one who will never die. I was prophesized about before I was even born, and those who know about my powers and abilities, or at least the ones in the prophecy, want to either control or kill me," I explained in an almost bored tone.

"Carlisle told us about that, about how the Volturi want you for the guard. They almost got you the day you brought us Esme," he said, and I nodded.

"I'm sure you know of Demetri, Aro's best tracker. He's been after me for the better part of three hundred years, if not longer."

"You're tired of this, aren't you?" he asked, putting his hands in his pocket.

"I'm tired of running," I whispered, walking to the closest tree and sitting down against the trunk. "I'm tired of having to hide who I am so that they have a harder time tracking me. I'm tired of not being able to talk to my own kind about who I am and what I can do to help because they could hear. I know some Nephilim do, those who study our past and our beliefs. They recognize me as soon as they see me, but they always keep quiet if someone else is around. They shouldn't have to, though. People should be able to know who I am, and I should be able to help them without hiding like I do now."

"All of us know how you feel, Bella. We can help the humans in Carlisle's care by diagnosing them, but we can't tell them how. We can't let them know about what we are, either. I understand exactly what you're feeling." He sat down next to me, crossing his legs and picking at the grass under him.

We sat in companionable silence for some time, me watching the sky above the house and him playing with the grass blades. I could feel the rest of the family milling about in the house, but something else was bothering me. I couldn't figure out what it was, so I closed my eyes and breathed deep, trying to bring about a vision. Of course, the only one I was met with was only a memory of the previous, where all of us were standing in the field. I exhaled and shook my head, frustrated.

"What's wrong?" Edward asked, his hands frozen above the grass. He was looking worried, and with how fast my bad feeling was growing, he should have been.

"I don't know, but I have a very bad feeling about something," I said, looking up at the sky but not focusing. "I just don't know—"

The vision hit so hard that my head slammed back against the tree trunk, the only thing keeping me from being knocked flat on my back. I heard Edward and someone else yell, but their voices were drowned out by snarls, growls, and screams of pain and anger.

All of us were in the field again, but it wasn't the same. We weren't standing in a line, waiting for something to happen; that something was happening, and it was a fight. Screeching from vampires being torn apart ripped through the air, and the sickeningly sweet smell of burning undead flesh was quickly spreading.

The Cullens and I were fighting a large group of vampires, all with red eyes and the desire to kill us. As I looked over the field, I noticed myself standing in the center of it all. A ring of waiting opponents was standing around our group, and I quickly realized I was using my shield to hold them back. I didn't know exactly how long my shield had been up, but it was starting to waver. Edward abandoned his shredded opponent and ran to my side as I fell to my knees. He leaned me back against his chest, rocking me back and forth as the others continued to fight.

The vision ended there, but I knew that wasn't the end. I could feel that there was more, that I should have seen more, but something abruptly cut it off.

Screams slammed into my ears as I felt myself violently rise up out of my vision, but everything was black. I could feel my body, how my back was bowed up off the bed and my head, shoulders, and pelvis were pressed against it. Sensation quickly returned to me, a tingling in my eyes growing to an excruciating pain, as though someone were trying to gouge them out of my head. I tried to reach up, tried to get to my eyes, but someone was holding my arms down in an iron grip. I needed to stop the pain. It was too much, but I couldn't get to my eyes. I was screaming, but I wasn't the only one.

"Need to stop . . . rune!" Edward yelled, but I wasn't sure at who or what exactly he was talking about. Someone responded, but the pain surged and I couldn't comprehend anything going on around me.

"Where is it?" Edward yelled again, and I could feel multiple sets of hands all over my body. "Where's . . . rune?"

I gasped as one scream stopped, giving me only a second before the next began, but it was long enough for me to grab Edward's forearm with only a slight turn of my wrist and squeeze with everything I had to get his attention and yank his arm towards my side. The rune looked like a simple arrow tip pointing towards my navel, right above the flare of my left hip. Edward yelled at someone as I started screaming and convulsing in pain.

Next thing I knew, pain erupted from my hip and I could feel warm blood travelling down my side. My eyes slowly stopped hurting and my body collapsed against the bed, but I couldn't catch my breath. Edward's hands were on my face, but I couldn't see anything. I didn't want to blink with the fear that the pain would return, but they felt so dry.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Edward mumbled. I almost couldn't hear him over my rasping, but I did hear Jasper.

"Blink, Bella. It's okay," he said, a hand I assumed was his resting on top of my head.

I did, but nothing changed. It wasn't the normal red that faded as time passed. This was solid black, like I was outside at night with my eyes closed, and it didn't fade, no matter how many times I blinked. I started hyperventilating, and Edward grabbed my hands in his, clutching them to his chest.

"Try your rune, Bella," he frantically whispered, his breath caressing my face. I tried to draw the healing rune, but my panic was breaking my focus. Drawing deep breaths, I managed to calm myself enough to finish the shape, but nothing happened. I tried again, but got the same result. I stared upwards, hoping I was looking at or near Edward's face, and a tear ran down my cheek.

"Edward, it isn't working. I'm blind."


	38. Chapter 37

_Chapter 37: Edward_

"Edward, it isn't working. I'm blind," she whispered, her voice oddly calm as tears streamed down her face. I gently wiped them away, but realized it was a losing battle as more immediately replaced them.

"No, just try again. It'll work," I whispered back, cupping her face to let her know I was still there. Her eyes turned white with the activation of her rune, and she started shaking her head as nothing happened.

"It's not working, Edward. I don't know why." She trailed off and closed her eyes, her body trembling.

"Why isn't it working? Carlisle, why isn't it working?" I asked, my voice rising in panic.

"I don't know, Edward but we'll figure it out," he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. I could only shake my head in response, and Bella was silent. I wiped away a few more tears with my thumbs, and Bella gently wrapped her hands around my wrists.

"How are you so calm about this, Bella?" I asked in exasperation, and she gave me a sad smile.

"You can only live for so long without something happening to you, Edward. I've been waiting. I had too many close calls for my luck not to catch up with me eventually."

"So you're just going to accept it?"

"Until I can think of something that might help. The only thing I can think to do right now won't work. I can't stress myself out by panicking over something I can't fix. At least, not right now."

"Where were you staying before here? Do you have anything there that could help?" Jasper asked, his military mind kicking into gear. "A couple of us could go over there and get all your stuff. Then, if you think of anything, you'll have everything here."

"I do need to get my things, but I cloaked the area around it so no one could find it. You'll have to bring me with you so I can locate and destroy the runes and spells," she said, and I was about to protest when Carlisle's grip on my shoulder tightened in warning.

"Is that going to be hard?" I asked, trying and failing to hide the tension in my voice.

"No, it's just the same as breaking my runes, but the spells disguise the runes so they can't be found. I can feel where the spells are in order to break them and then the rune," she answered, still calm. It unnerved me, how easily she had accepted what happened, and when I looked at Jasper, he shook his head.

_She's fully accepted what happened, Edward. It's almost like she thinks this was her fate all along. She isn't feeling as guilty as she did before this happened_, he thought, and I tilted my head, not moving my hands from Bella's face.

_Maybe she thinks this is payback for what she let happen to each of us. We don't blame her, but it's obvious that she doesn't feel the same. I wouldn't mention it right away. Let's get through the next few days, see what she can find out, and then talk to her about it, if she's willing. She's very stubborn, Ed, so don't expect her to immediately believe whatever you tell her_, he warned, and I nodded once.

"We can let you rest for a little while and go later," I said, but she shook her head and pushed my hands away.

"It's not going to change, Edward," she said, opening her eyes and attempting to sit up. I stood and helped her, moving out of her way as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I might as well go now so I have everything here, just like Jasper pointed out. It'll be no use trying to think of something when I have nothing to confirm it."

I glared at Jasper, who just gave me a blank look in response. Bella stood up, drawing my attention back to her, and walked forward a few steps. I put my hand on her shoulder before she walked into Emmett, who gave both of us a sad look. I sighed silently and clenched my eyes shut for a moment before opening them again.

"Let me get your shoes, Bella, and we'll get going," I said, and she nodded once, standing there and looking straight ahead. One might think she was examining Emmett's shirt, but her eyes didn't twitch like they normally would if she were seeing what was in front of her. I felt a pang in my chest as I turned and went to the front door to grab her boots, letting my tension and anger show on my face as I walked back in only because I knew she couldn't see it.

"Bella, hold onto my shoulder so I can put these on you," I said, actually sounding calm.

She put her hand out and I moved it onto my shoulder, tapping her ankle before I tried lifting it so she knew and didn't fall over. Once they were on, I took Bella's hand and stood, letting her feel my change in position through the position of our hands.

"Let's get going," I said, giving her hand a small squeeze as I moved forward. Emmett moved to the side and followed behind us, his mind letting me know that he was coming.

He grabbed a backpack as I moved through the house with Bella, steering her around furniture with a gentle pull in the opposite direction of the object. Emmett grabbed the keys to his Jeep and walked out with us, jumping in the driver's seat and unlocking the door before I reached it. I put Bella's free hand on the door jam and the other on the seat, pointing her towards the rear seats, and lifted her foot onto the step-up bar. She hoisted herself up without help and settled onto the seat while I pushed the passenger seat back up and got in.

Bella gave us directions as best she could, mentioning landmarks we should see as we went. We got to the dirt road without a problem and pulled to a stop. Something seemed off, though, because we could see the driveway leading back into the woods.

"Something's wrong," Bella mumbled. "I can't feel my spells. Can you see the road?"

"Yeah. Are we supposed to?" Emmett asked, and she shook her head.

"It should look like a dead end. Look at the trees. Do you see anything on them?"

We didn't say anything at first as we surveyed the area, and Emmett and I gave each other worried glances before answering.

"Bella, they're all slashed up," I said, opening my door and sliding out. I leaned my seat up and tapped Bella's hand, taking it when she lifted it from her lap and lifting her down from the Jeep. She tensed when I did so, and I immediately let go of her when her feet touched the ground.

"How did you have this set up?" I asked, standing next to but not touching her.

"It was in rings, with one cloaking the next, and that one cloaking the one after until you'd reach the ring covering my cabin itself. The outermost ring had spells over it to disguise the runes as normal ridges in the tree bark. Unless someone knew they were here, no one should have been able to even find the outer one. Even if they did, they would've needed to attack every tree within a one-mile radius until they found one with my rune on it. I spaced them out, but hitting one would have broken the chain and exposed the others. That was the purpose for the spells. They were supposed to keep the next ring hidden, even if one rune was found and destroyed." Bella paused and focused for a moment, like she was listening intently for something.

"I can't feel any of them. They must have gone after every single one." She looked in my general direction with a defeated look on her face. "They've found me."

"Who found you?" I asked, and immediately thought of the last time I'd seen her. "You mean Demetri, the vampire who attacked you back in Ohio?"

"Him and the Volturi. I didn't think of it at the time until he mentioned his boss wanting me either alive or dead. I'd been hearing rumors of the vampire kings looking for a powerful Nephilim—or _me_—and that they were willing to kill me if I wasn't willing to join them. They must still be after me."

"What about your vision? Is this what it was about?" I asked, moving in front of her so I could watch her face easier.

"Sort of. I saw the battle between us and them, but I didn't see it all. You stopped it before I saw what happened. Can't say I'm that upset about it, though," she said with a small smile, gesturing towards her eyes with one hand.

"Why are they after you?" Emmett asked, and Bella sighed softly.

"A prophecy was made about me a few years before I was born, explaining some of my abilities, my immortality, and how I was destined to save the world. It was very specific there, but apparently the mention of my power piqued Aro's interest. He's been looking for me ever since, and the closest they got was back when Carlisle changed Esme. Demetri managed to catch up to me as I left the hospital after dropping Esme off, but Hermes came to my rescue so I could get away."

"Damn . . . So, let me get this straight," Emmett said, crossing his arms over his chest, "you've been chased by the oldest and most powerful vampire organization in the world and you've only _almost_ been caught once in the past six hundred-and-something years?"

"Basically, yes, and now they've finally caught up to me." She looked up at the sky, a sad, almost defeated look in her still eyes.

"We won't let them have you, Bella," I said, resting a hand on her shoulder. I wanted to hug her and not let go, shelter her from the prying eyes of the world after everything that had happened to her, but held back. She reached up and put her hand over mine.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," she mumbled, and then gestured ahead of her. "Let's go."

I turned and started walking towards the Jeep, but stopped when Bella grabbed my sleeve. I turned my head to see her standing behind me with her eyes straight ahead, quickly realizing she needed to hold on to know where she was going. Emmett waved me on with a roll of his eyes and we piled back into the Jeep, Emmett's driving making short work of the dirt road.

"Aw, crap," he mumbled when we pulled up in front of Bella's house.

"They burned it down, didn't they?" she asked, surprising me.

"How'd you know?" I said and she gave me a small smile.

"I can smell the ash, and the air is still a little warmer than it was back at the beginning of the driveway."

I didn't respond, mostly from surprise, and got out of the Jeep. I helped her out again as Emmett did a quick survey of the area, coming back and gesturing that we were alone, from what he could tell.

"So, what's it look like?" she asked, and I shrugged before remembering that she couldn't see me.

"It doesn't look like much of anything anymore. Two of the support beams are standing, but they've been burned through. Some of the wood is still smoldering, but there are no flames. I hate to say it, but it looks like everything is gone, Bella."

"No, only the unimportant stuff," she said with a small smile. "Can you get me a walking stick?"

I did as she asked without question, leaving her for only a moment before coming back with a sturdy but slightly bent limb from a nearby tree. She took it when I pressed it into her hand, giving me another small smile before walking forward and swinging the stick over the ground in front of her. I followed close behind, ready to catch her at any moment if she tripped. She went up the front step and into what used to be her house, using the stick to find and move obstacles out of her way. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, so I didn't stop her.

"It should be around here somewhere," she said under her breath, starting to tap her stick on the floor. She stopped when the impact made a dull, hollow sound and turned slightly. "Everything I need is right under here."

She tapped the floor again, indicating where the hollow sound was coming from, and I moved in front of her, putting my hand on her shoulder as I passed. Feeling along the floor where she had her stick, I found a very slight crack in the floorboards. My fingernail just barely fit in, and I pulled it up to reveal a small, concrete-lined compartment with a backpack inside. I pulled it out, surprised at the weight of it, and set it on the floor.

"What's in here, Bella?" I asked, and she bent down to touch the bag. She almost fell over and caught herself by putting her hand on my thigh. She didn't seem fazed by it, settling herself on her knees before removing her hand and feeling around the bag for the zipper. It was full of books, varying from palm-sized to the size of the bag itself. Before I could read any of the titles, she zipped it back up and gestured towards the hole again.

"Push on the upper left corner. The bottom should flip up," she said moving the bag next to her to make room.

Like she said, the bottom did just that, and underneath was another smaller bag. It made a funny metallic clanking sound when I lifted it, and I figured these were her weapons. I put that bag in front of her and she stuck her hand in, drawing out a knife only about the size of her palm. It didn't look too threatening to me, but she seemed pleased that it was there when she put it back.

She stood up, using the stick to steady her, and kept the bag of weapons in her hand. Emmett picked up the backpack as I closed the compartment and we made our way back to the Jeep in silence. I hoisted the backpack and bag into the Jeep before helping Bella up into it, and Emmett sped all the way back home.

Something was off as we pulled up to the house. Another car was in the driveway, a car we hadn't seen before, and I could hear an unfamiliar mind. She seemed harmless, but so had some of the violent nomads we'd come across. Emmett and I were on guard as we got out of the Jeep, and even Bell was tense.

"Why is she here?" Bella mumbled to herself.

"Do you know her?" I asked quietly, and she shook her head.

"I have no idea, but she shouldn't be here. Leave my stuff in the car until we know."

We did and I grabbed Bella's hand as we walked up the front porch, just waiting for a crash or scream.


	39. Chapter 38

_Chapter 38: Bella_

Edward grabbed my hand and gently led me up the stairs, dropping my hand and grabbing my by the waist to lift me up on the porch. I felt him appear next to me from the slight breeze he created, and his shirt brushed against my hand as he positioned himself in front of me.

"Edward, I don't think she's here to hurt us," I mumbled, knowing he would hear me. I tried to move so that I was standing next to him, but he just moved with me.

"We don't know that for sure, Bella, and I'm not willing to risk it," he mumbled back.

"Well, I don't need you to protect me," I mumbled half-heartedly, knowing even before I said it that it wasn't true. Neither Edward nor Emmett responded, so I grabbed the back of Edward's shirt with a soft sigh of resignation.

Someone opened the door and I followed Edward inside, judging by the tension of his shirt in my fist whether or not he was walking or stopping. He only took a few steps inside before he stopped and turned to the left, where I remembered the living room being. I could feel someone looking at me from that direction and turned slightly, feeling Edward's arm right in front of me. Emmett was just behind me, but I had no idea where the others were.

"Oh, Carlisle, this was not what I'd expected," a raspy female voice said somewhat breathlessly. "Her eyes . . . I haven't seen anything like it."

"Who are you?" I said, looking straight ahead. I let go of Edward's shirt and grabbed his arm, using it to move myself next to him. I pushed my shield out ahead of me and found her little off to my right. She gasped as she felt my shield brush against her skin, and I recognized the vibe of a Nephilim, just as I had when we pulled up.

"You are Nephilim," I stated. "Tell me your name."

"My name is Marianne. What's yours?" she asked, and her smile was obvious. Even with age changing her voice, I still remembered the little blond-haired, blue-eyed girl who had been such a little spitfire all those years ago.

"Oh, little Mary," I whispered, my whole body immediately softening in recognition. I stepped around Edward and took a couple of steps towards where I had sensed her. She moved in front of me and took my hands in hers, holding it tightly.

"Miss Bella, what happened to you?" she asked, her voice shaking with emotion.

"Miss Bella," I repeated with a laugh, "I haven't been called that in a long time."

"We always called you that, Joshua and I. Even after you left, we still did." She paused for a moment before speaking again. "You didn't visit us like you said you would."

"Oh, yes, I did," I said with a small smile. "You just never knew I was there. Once I knew you were going to be okay, I left for good. I didn't want to stir up any old memories and then have to leave again."

"Jasper," I called, turning my head slightly, "do you remember her?"

"No. Should I?" he asked, appearing behind me and to my right.

"You met her the day you rescued me from the mermaid. Before you were changed, when I was dragged into the water? The little girl and boy who were watching from the shore?"

He was silent, and I wished that I could see his face as he tried to remember back to that day. I didn't know if he would be able to, but it was worth a shot. Marianne's tight grip on my hands let me know that she did, in fact, remember Jasper, but she kept quiet as he tried.

"I remember rescuing you and that people were on the shore," he said slowly, struggling to pull the memories forward. "I only remember two kids. They were crying into a lady's skirt."

"My brother and me," Marianne said.

"How is that possible?" he asked, and Marianne laughed.

"Nephilim have at least twice the average lifespan of humans, Jasper. Didn't you know that?"

"The only other Nephilim I've met has been alive forever, so I don't know a whole lot about you guys," he said, and I shook my head with a small smile on my face.

"I apologize for feeding you incorrect information, Jasper," I said, and he put his hand on my shoulder.

"Apology accepted." I swung my hand back and lightly smacked his chest. He laughed and grabbed my hand in his, patting the back of it before letting it fall back to my side.

"Oh, Bella, it's so nice to see you happy," Marianne said, dropping my hand and wrapping her arms around me, trapping my arms at my sides. "You were so reserved the last time I saw you."

I could only return her embrace by putting my hands on her sides, but she didn't seem to care. She released me a moment later, taking my hands again. Her skin felt wrinkled and thin, but the muscles underneath were strong and sound.

"I could say the same about you, little Mary. How is your brother, by the way?" I said and she sighed.

"Busy as usual. A hundred and fifty-one years of life and he still doesn't know how to kick back, even for a few minutes. He still thinks _training_ is fun," she huffed, squeezing my hands in emphasis.

"Yes, that does sound like Joshua," I said, laughing softly.

"I didn't tell him I was coming because I didn't know exactly who it was I was coming to treat, but I know he'd love to see you again. Would you mind if I called him?"

"That's up to Carlisle. This is his house and his family," I said, feeling Edward's hand on my back.

"We're her family, too, but she hasn't accepted that fact as of yet," Carlisle said from somewhere behind me. "It's fine with me, Marianne, but he has to make sure he's not followed."

"They already know I'm here, Carlisle, so he doesn't have to try too hard," I said, closing my eyes and sighing. "They destroyed my spells and runes, and burned down the cabin I was staying in."

"What? How did they find you?" he asked, and I shrugged.

"I have no idea, but I know they'll be coming after me soon. That's what my vision was about, but I never got to tell you, what with the whole oh-no-I'm-blind thing. They're gathering forces to attack. My death is still all they want, and they're willing to go through all of you to get it."

"Then we'll need to be prepared," Edward said from behind me, his thumb moving in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. It wasn't.

"I don't want you to be prepared, Edward. I don't want you to be there, but I know neither of my wants will keep you away." He chuckled lightly, his thumb still moving against my back.

"No, they won't. You're part of this family, and we don't leave family behind. Why do you think Emmett is still here after all of his less-than-intelligent escapades?"

"Hey, man, that's uncalled for," Emmett whined, and I heard the distinct sound of someone smacking him. "Rosie, what was that for?"

"Alice has saved your skin from doing something stupid more times than you can remember, and you know it," she mumbled, and he groaned in response.

"Okay, before this goes any further, I'm going to step into the next room and call Josh," Marianne said with a laugh. She let go of my hand and I heard her step away. I sighed and my head drooped slightly as it turned into a yawn.

"Here, let's sit down," Edward said softly, using the hand on my back to steer me.

He squeezed my shoulder with his other hand to stop me and turned me around, gripping both of my shoulders to lower me onto the couch. I breathed deeply as I let myself relax, and was surprised to feel that I wasn't on either end of the couch, but the middle. The lack of a couch arm and Edward's weight appearing to my left told me so.

"It's been a long day, Bella. Rest and we'll see what Marianne and Joshua know," he said, and I opened my eyes to look in his direction.

"They might need my books from the car. I can't really help them look, but they might want to go through the spells first and see what they find. Right now, I think they'll be easier for me to use. I don't seem to be getting my energy back as fast as I did before," I explained, fighting against another yawn. I couldn't see Edward's response, but a blanket was draped over me only a moment later.

"You let us worry about it, at least for a little while," Marianne said, her footsteps coming towards me. She sat on my other side and took my hand in both of hers, patting the back of it. "Adam told you that back then. Let the world turn without you for a little while. We'll handle it."

"He was a smart man," I said, my eyes slowly drifting shut.

"Yes, so take his advice again, Miss Bella, and rest," she said softly. The sound of Edward's unneeded breaths and the slight rise and fall of his chest under my head lulled me to sleep before I could respond.


	40. Chapter 39

_Chapter 39: Edward_

"I never thought we'd see her again," Joshua said as he stared at Bella. She was sleeping deeply, her head on my shoulder and her back against my chest. His voice was gravely with age, but his eyes shone with life.

"Neither did I," Marianne said. "When Carlisle asked for my help, I didn't even link his Isabella with our Isabella."

"I wouldn't have, either." He looked at Carlisle with curious blue eyes. "So, what is it that's wrong with her?"

"How much do you know about her visions?" Carlisle asked in response, and Joshua shrugged one shoulder.

"Very little. We were only six years old the last time we saw Isabella. We were told about her after she had left, about the prophecy and the powers the girl in it had, how they matched those of the girl who had just been in our home. As far as her visions, we know that she had one that led her to us, had one of Jasper, and that they were starting to cause her pain. She didn't know why and we didn't have a lot of time to look into it with her before she left again," he summarized quietly, looking down at his hands.

"Well, she was shot a few weeks ago, and the impact of the bullet destroyed her healing rune. When we convinced her to come here instead of back to her cabin to be by herself, she had a vision that actually blinded her. We had to destroy her rune just to stop it. She was bleeding heavily from her eyes, and she hasn't been able to see anything since," Carlisle said, sitting in the recliner. "She mentioned looking in some old spell books she had and trying to find a rune that may help."

"These are the books," Emmett said, setting Bella's backpack on the coffee table. Joshua opened it and flipped through the first one he pulled out, his brow crinkling as he did so.

"I don't know a whole lot about spells, but I suppose we could look through these and mark any that mention some form of healing. We'll have to mention them to Isabella and see if she thinks they can help. The runes should be easier, though. Nephilim have to memorize them during our training as we grow up. Every Nephilim knows every rune we use, so if we think back hard enough, we should be able to remember even those we have never actually had to use."

"That's good, isn't it?" Emmett asked. "The two of you can go through your runes, and we can go through the books. We should find something between the nine of us, even without Bella's help."

"It'll be faster with all of us, that's for sure, but there's still a chance we won't find anything. You have to understand that no one has, is, or will ever be like Isabella," Marianne said, watching Bella with sad eyes, and I couldn't help but agree. "There's no precedent for something like this, and we won't find something that says 'cure for blindness in immortal Nephilim with permanent vision rune,' you know? It may sound simple, but we really don't know what we're looking for."

"Well, let's start somewhere. We won't find anything thinking about how hard it might be," Carlisle said, reaching into the bag and grabbing another book out. We ended up pulling out six large books and everyone sat down to study them while Marianne and Joshua started drawing all kinds of runes on scrap paper in an attempt to remember them all.

I was thumbing through the thinnest of them, using my thigh as a table, when Bella curled up against me as tightly as she could and shivered. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and her arms were tucked in between, her hands clutching my shirt. I pushed the book to the side and gently moved her onto my lap, grabbing the fleece blanket Esme offered me and tucking it around her and between our bodies to keep her warm. She tucked her face into the crook of my neck when I freed my shirt from her hands, and I froze as she sighed softly.

"Never thought I'd see the day," Carlisle said softly as he watched her. "I never thought she'd allow herself to get close to someone, especially not like that." He gestured to her position in my lap with a small smile.

"She's not exactly conscious right now, Carlisle. I wouldn't think too much of it," I mumbled, secretly hoping he was right. I glanced at Jasper, who was trying to hide a smile as he read my emotions.

"I wouldn't think too little, either, Edward. She's never been the warmest of people, even with me. I often dreamed of how she was before the attack, how she was with her baby, but I just can't imagine it."

"She would have been quiet, gentle, caring in a way that wouldn't smother her baby, but still let the baby know she's there. If someone were to endanger her baby, though, the wrath of the Heavens would have been dropped on their heads," Esme mumbled. I looked at her in surprise, and she smiled. "It was in her eyes. When she saved me, I saw it."

I looked down at Bella and imagined her holding a small child in her arms. Her face was relaxed, a soft smile on her lips, her eyes calm and content . . . bright and alive. She looked exactly the same as she did now, but so very different at the same time. Younger . . . innocent to everything I knew she had seen in her lifetime. She was happy.

"Stop dwelling , Edward," Jasper said, standing behind me and grabbing my shoulder. "She will never be anywhere close to that person you're imagining if we don't find out what's wrong with her."

"I know," I said, looking at the book I had been flipping through. Hermes suddenly appeared on the couch and cooed softly, bowing his head and putting his foot on the book's cover. I went to pick it up and he stepped off, cooing again.

"You're a good friend to her, Hermes," I said softly. "Always watching and listening, even when you're out of sight."

He responded by hopping up into Bella's lap and curling against her above the blanket, warming her almost instantly. I smiled and propped the book against the couch's arm rest, listening to everyone return to their research.

*E*E*

Four hours later, each of us had gone through every one of the books from Bella's bag, and Marianne and Joshua had thought of a couple of runes that might work. They said they couldn't be sure without actually trying them, but I wasn't about to let them wake her up, not when she was so exhausted.

We didn't have to wait long, though. She started waking up only a half hour later, yawning softly and rubbing her eye with her hand. I tensed when she leaned back and opened her eyes, and my body sagged in disappointment when my gaze was met by her pure white one. She seemed unaware but awake, but she quickly inhaled and tensed. Hermes cooed, pressing his head to her chest to calm her down, and she did slightly.

"Hello, my friend," she whispered, looking down in his direction. He stood, chook out his feathers, and hopped up on the back of the couch next to my head.

"Are you okay?" I said softly, and she nodded.

"Yes," she said, somewhat tightly. "What's going on?"

"We've been looking through your books to see if there's anything that could help you in them, and Marianne and Joshua have been thinking through all of the runes they know of. We have a few spells we've noted, and they have two or three runes to try. We wanted to tell you what they were and see what you thought before we did anything," I explained after lifting her up and setting her on the couch next to me. She had grabbed my shoulder when I first lifted her up, and she seemed hesitant to let go when she was on the couch again. I didn't move from her grip, letting her decide what she wanted. She ended up moving her hand down to her lap, but her elbow was resting on both of our thighs and her bicep touching mine.

"Okay, what did you find?" she said, relaxing back into the couch. Marianne told her about the runes, one of which Bella thought was worth a shot, and Carlisle read off the spells. A few sounded promising, but none of them—or the rune—had anything to do with healing. I had my doubts, but I kept my mouth shut. Bella was holding down her hope, trying to keep it quiet, and I didn't want to give her another weapon to beat it down.

"We'll try those two spells and the rune, but we need a few things beforehand," she said once we had discussed and decided what we were doing.

"Okay," Carlisle said, "we'll make a list and start tomorrow. Exactly how long do we have before that battle you saw?"

"One week," Alice said, her eyes focusing from looking ahead. "That's only if they don't decide to increase their pace."

"Then we need one of these things to work tomorrow," Bella said. "We need to be as prepared as possible for that."

"'We'?" Emmett said, and she smiled a little.

"Yes, Emmett, 'we'. I won't be able to keep you away, so I might as well accept it."

"Good. Tomorrow, then," he said with a smile, and I did the same, moving a little so my arm brushed against Bella's.

"Tomorrow, we start preparing for battle."


	41. Chapter 40

_Chapter 40: Bella_

"So what's first?" Emmett asked, and I shrugged. It was the day after everyone had gone through my books, and Marianne and Joshua had collected everything we needed for the two spells I thought might work. I was hoping they would, especially with Alice's prediction of when the battle was going to occur, but I had a sick feeling nothing would change today.

Someone put their hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. Edward was sitting next to me with his hand on my knee, so I knew it wasn't him. Emmett and Joshua were sitting across from me from the direction of their voices. The hand felt like that of a man, and Jasper whispered "Positive thoughts" in my ear, ending the mystery.

"I'm trying," I answered, leaning my head back and smiling. Edward took my hand and kissed the back of it, making my jump slightly in surprise. I didn't take my hand away, though, and he held it in his lap.

"Why don't Marianne and I work on mixing ingredients for the spells, and Joshua can try the rune? I don't want to make this last all day," Carlisle said from somewhere off to my right.

"Well, I'm going to go do something else," Rosalie said from behind the couch, her voice so sharp I actually flinched. She turned on her heel, the sound a small scrape normal people wouldn't have heard, but Esme stopped her in her tracks.

"Rosalie Hale, you will stay here and help us with this. I cannot believe you are acting this way!"

"How the hell am I supposed to act?" she yelled back, and I flinched again, wrapping my free arm around my middle. Edward wrapped my other arm around me, as well as his.

"I need to help _her_ in her time of need when she left me there to be beaten and raped? She _watched it happen_." I brought my knees up to my chest, trapping my arms and Edward's. I could feel him getting tense as she continued to yell, but he focused on me, gently pushing me towards him so I was leaning against his chest with his arm around my back as well as around my middle. He was rumbling a little, as though he were losing his grip on his temper.

Everything she was saying was true, though. I knew it was going to happen. I knew exactly when and where. Worst of all, I knew _what_ would happen. I didn't stop it. I stood by until it was over and did nothing to help her. It replayed in my mind as they argued around me, my missing sight filled by the memory of watching Rosalie's attack.

"Rosie—" Emmett started, but she cut him off.

"Not now, Emmett!" she barked. "I'm not helping, and no one is going to convince me otherwise. Not after everything she did. Or didn't, in this case." Edward's grip tightened as I squeezed his fingers in response to her accusation. My face was wet with tears I couldn't stop as the memories and arguing threatened to overwhelm me. Edward pressed his hand against the side of my head, pressing his mouth to the other. He was breathing roughly and took a deep breath in when Esme spoke up again.

"Do you love Emmett?" Esme asked her, catching all of us off guard.

"What? Of course I do," Rosalie said, her confusion obvious in her voice.

"Did you save him from dying?" Esme said, continuing her completely unrelated questions.

"Yes."

"Were you a vampire when you saved him?"

"Yes."

"Would Emmett be here today if you weren't changed?"

"I . . . don't know," Rosalie answered, her voice hushed. I realized what Esme was doing, and my guess was that Rosalie had, as well.

"You are tough, loyal, and trustworthy to those you give your heart to Rosalie. Why do you think that is?" Esme asked. She didn't answer.

"Do you think Isabella enjoyed watching you suffer? Have you ever asked her why she didn't do anything?"

No answer.

"Her visions showed her things that had to happen. To interfere was to condemn the subject of her vision to a worse encounter than the original, a death deserved by no one. Had she stopped your attack before it began, or even interrupted it, something far worse would have happened to you, and you wouldn't be here today," Esme explained, her voice hard yet understanding. "Rosalie, who wouldn't have ever met you had she not done what she did?"

"Everyone," Rosalie whispered.

"Who wouldn't be here today if you weren't changed?"

This question was met by silence for a moment before she whispered, "Emmett."

Everyone was silent after that, but the pictures didn't stop. Rosalie's face twisted in pain, her cries for help, the mens' jeers and laughter as they cheered each other on, the smell of Rosalie's blood as she lay in the alleyway . . . I didn't realize I was crying until Edward cupped my face in his hands and I felt him turn on the couch to face me, wiping away my tears as he tried to calm me down. His words were lost on me, though.

"I didn't want to," I gasped out between sobs. "I didn't want to . . . but I had to. I could-couldn't risk anything worse tha-than that . . . Didn't know wha-what was worse."

"We know Bella," Edward said, and I grabbed his wrists for comfort. He freed himself from my grip and wrapped his arms around me, bringing me to his chest.

"I didn't want to," I continued to whisper into his shirt.

"We know, Bella. We know you didn't," he repeated. "All of us wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, Bella."

"I hated it," I said as I finally started calming down, turning my head so I wasn't talking into Edward's shirt. My face felt sticky with tears as I laid my head against Edward's chest, releasing my grip on his hand.

"Carlisle was turned into the one thing he hated most, Jasper was stabbed and left to wait for his sire only to live as a slave to her, you became so sick you basically died, Esme survived her fall when she wasn't supposed to, Alice saw herself attacked, Rosalie was attacked by her own husband, and Emmett by a bear. All of you should have lost your lives instead of being sentenced to eternity watching everyone you love and care about die around you until only you are left. I hated every moment of it, but it would've only been worse had I done anything other than what I was shown."

"I'd promise to make it up to all of you," I said after a moment of silence, "but I seriously don't know what I could possibly do, no matter how long I have to do it. I'm sorry it happened. I will forever be sorry, but my apologies won't make you human again."

"Bella—" Edward started, but I cut him off with a shake of my head.

"No, it's fine, Edward. She doesn't have to help if she doesn't want to. I haven't exactly given her reason to. Let's just get this over with. If they don't work, we'll have a lot more work ahead of us."

No one moved when I finished, and I sat there waiting for someone to do something. Marianne finally came to my rescue by coming over to the couch and sitting next to me. She touched my hand, which was still clasped in Edward's with his arm around me, and I turned my head slightly in her direction. My knees were still against my chest, so she didn't have much of a choice.

"Let's try the rune first, shall we?" she asked, but I didn't respond. "Carlisle and Jasper, can you two help Joshua prepare the spell?"

People shuffled around after that, but I had no way to know who was going where. All I did know was that neither Edward nor Marianne moved from their spots. I assumed Carlisle, Joshua, and Jasper went somewhere to prepare the spells like Marianne asked, but I didn't know any more than that.

"Why don't we try a regular healing rune first?" she asked. "Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll finally work."

I shrugged in response and freed my arm from its confines, the fingers of my other hand twitching in Edward's in anxiety. Marianne grabbed my wrist and pressed the tip of her stele to my skin, quickly drawing the small sign Edward flinched at the smell of burning flesh as she drew, but I stayed perfectly still. I held my breath when she took her stele away, but nothing happened. I should have felt my skin get warmer as the rune activated, but I only felt the fading tingle left over from her stele. Marianne only gave me a moment to feel disappointed before she moved on to the next one.

"It's a rejuvenation rune, this other one. I'm hoping it gives you at least a little of your sight back," she explained as she adjusted her grip. She placed her stele just above the healing rune, slowly and carefully drawing out this circular one. It was a simple rune, but it also wasn't a very powerful one. As soon as she was close to finishing, I realized it wasn't going to do anything. I just knew, and the lack of warmth in my forearm didn't surprise me.

"Neither one did anything," she whispered in disappointment.

"It's okay. They were a long shot," I said, unfolding myself and standing up. I let Edward's hand fall from my own. "Joshua, I'll be outside when you're ready."

"We are ready, Bella. Sit back down and we'll finish this right now," he said gently, and I did so slowly, not really wanting to bother trying.

"Joshua, how are you even able to perform spells?" I asked, just then realizing the missing link in our plan.

"I thought of that, too. This would've been too difficult for you to perform by yourself, so I contacted an old witch friend of ours and asked if it was possible. Turns out, all I needed was a pendant linked to me and a witch, basically making me a bridge between her power and the subject of the spell."

"Are you sure that's safe? We don't know exactly how much energy this will take from her," I asked, my doubts flaring up again.

"She doesn't practice much anymore, and she's been storing her energy in items for an occasion where she may need it."

"Well, I wouldn't bother with the rejuvenation spell. I knew before Marianne finished that nothing would happen. It's not strong enough," I said.

"We thought as much while we were getting the materials yesterday. We'll just do the healing spell, then. Lay down on the couch and we'll get started."

I did as he said again, Edward cradling my head in his lap. I closed my eyes and let myself drift, feeling only Edward's hand on the top of my head and the cool, herb-filled cloth Joshua draped over my eyes. He was mumbling in Latin under his breath, asking for the Mother and Father to heal the wounds their gifts had given me as I did their work. He sprinkled something over my face and started again, my body heating up as the spell began to activate. I was pulsing with power as his voice rose in intensity, my breaths coming faster and faster in time with my heartbeats.

And then it stopped. The pulse was gone. My breaths and heart beat were normal. The heat was gone. When I finally opened my eyes, the world was still gone, as well. It didn't work.

"Damn," Edward growled, and I jumped in surprise. He petted my head in what I assumed to be apology.

"I need to think. We're missing something, but I can't figure it out," I said, sitting up slowly. "Emmett, did you keep that stick you found?"

"I can do you one better, Bells. Carlisle got you one of those folding ones the humans use," he said, his voice coming closer. I heard small ticking sounds as he unfolded the thin metal stick, and he put it in my hand.

"Thank you," I whispered, and he helped me stand. "Can you point me outside?"

"Straight ahead. It's a sliding glass door, so you'll hear your stick hit it," he said after turning me slightly. I smiled and carefully headed in that direction, swinging the end of the stick on the floor in front of me.

I made it out the door and down the single step without incident, ad quickly found a bunch of trees. I sat down against the first one I tapped and sighed softly, leaning my head back against the trunk and closing my eyes. Edward came out a little while later, the humming on my body growing stronger as he approached.

"May I join you?" he asked, and I gestured to the ground next to me.

"Pull up a tree," I said and he chuckled lightly as he sat down. His arm was touching mine, but I didn't move.

"Have you thought of anything?"

"I haven't really thought anything at all, let alone what to do about my eyes," I said with a slight huff. "We've tried healing and rejuvenating, and any restorative rune would only be slightly stronger than the rejuvenating one. I need one much stronger than both put together, from the sound of things, and there isn't one that I know of. Whatever is wrong with my eyes seems irreversible, Edward."

"Is there some way to give you your sight without trying to fix your eyes?" he asked, and I quirked an eyebrow at the sky.

"Explain."

"Think about cars. If something is wrong in the wiring and you can't figure out what it is, you can usually bypass it and still get the results you want. Emmett and Rose do it all the time."

"So, you want to hotwire my eyes so they don't rely on my optic nerve?" I asked, trying to make sure I understood. I felt him shrug.

"I guess. What if, instead of repairing what's broken, we make new? Can you do that?"

I mulled it over for a few minutes, listing the different runes that did something like that. I could do it, but I'd have to use an old and very risky rune the Nephilim world had long-since abandoned for just those reasons. I didn't have anything left to lose.


	42. Chapter 41

_Chapter 41: Edward_

Bella had some kind of epiphany after my stupid analogy, her face going blank as she thought through what I'd said. She had thought of something, that much was obvious by the happiness she was holding back, but she wasn't saying what. All of a sudden she tried standing, falling over in her haste. I stood and caught her before she realized she was falling, her mouth just turning into an "o" of alarm when my arm ended up around her waist. I stood her back up and she took a step back, looking at the ground and blushing.

"What's got you so worked up?" I asked, smiling only because I knew she couldn't see me.

"I just thought of something, and I think it's strong enough to work," she said, still looking at the ground.

"But . . ." I trailed off, hearing the weighted silence at the end of that sentence.

"It hasn't been done in a while, that's all."

"Does it have to do with Hermes? I remember hearing something about a phoenix healing someone," I said, thinking of it as I said it.

"You mean phoenix tears? It's not that. I can't ask him to shed one, nor can I force him. If he isn't forthcoming, there's a reason. I'd like to think that, if he were going to use them to heal me, he would have by now. It's a very old rune Marianne and Joshua probably don't even know exists."

"How do you know about it?"

"It was long out of use before my birth, but that's one of the gifts I was given, the knowledge of every single rune ever used in the Nephilim world. Some should never be used because of the consequences on others, but a number of them can still do good if they're used properly. The problem is that some of them can also be bad for the user, even if the rune is good. Even worse, some of them are temperamental with their consequences, dealing them some times and not others."

"What about this one?" I asked, my voice quiet with suspicion. I had a feeling about what her answer would be, and I didn't like it.

"This just so happens to be a temperamental one," she said, turning away from me.

"I don't like it, Bella. There has to be another way," I said, moving in front of her. She looked in my direction from the corner of her eye and looked away again.

"This is the only one that could possibly help me, and right now, I'm useless. If the Volturi were to attack us with me like this, I couldn't do anything to protect all of you against them."

"First of all, you are far from useless," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You have over six hundred years' worth of knowledge and experience to share with the rest of us. Second, it's not your job to protect all of us. It's our job to work together to protect each other. You need to realize that, as long as you let us help you, the weight of the world isn't only on your shoulders anymore. We're here to help, and that's exactly what we'll do."

"I know you will, but I don't like not being able to do anything about a problem I'm bringing to your family. I've always had to solve my problems on my own. For you to have to deal with them without me is unfair." She looked at the ground with a disappointed look on her face.

"I understand your need to be independent, Bella. It's unreasonable for us expect you to drop everything and rely on other people, but it doesn't mean you have to continue doing everything by yourself, either."

"I know, but it's going to take a while. This is like rewinding six hundred years of relying on no one but myself."

"Well, let's start here. We'll go back inside, and you can tell us all about this rune. We'll see what we can think of as a group to try to make sure nothing bad happens if you use it, and we can think of ways to counter any negative effects if they do happen. What do you say?" I asked, putting my other hand under her chin and gently raising her head until she was facing me. I watched her face as she thought through everything, and I smiled gently when I saw the look of resignation.

"I guess I really don't have much of a choice," she said, giving me a sad smile. "As long as I'm blind, I can't do this by myself."

"You know you're welcome to stay here with us. You won't have to do anything by yourself. You'd have a partner in each of us, no matter the mission."

"All except Rosalie, you mean," she said with a tight smile.

"Rose is a . . . special case," I said with a laugh. "She will come to accept you eventually, like she has each of us. Change doesn't come easily to her."

"Sounds familiar." She shook her head and sighed. "Let's get this moving. I don't know how fast this rune will work, if it works at all."

"Positive thoughts, Isabella Swan," I said, trying to lift her mood as I turned us towards the house, taking her hand and leading her back over the lawn. She stumbled a few times, but I caught her before she fell. Neither of us mentioned them, preferring to continue our walk in companionable silence like nothing was wrong.

As soon as Bella and I walked in, I spotted everyone waiting in the living room with worried looks on their faces. I was surprised to see Rose standing at the back of the room against the wall, but I didn't acknowledge her, not after everything she said to Bella before. Bella was the forgiving one of the two of us, and I had no idea how she managed to stay that way.

"You thought of something," Marianne said, sitting on the couch with her hands in her lap. I guided Bella over to the armchair and she sat down while I hovered at her side.

"I did," Bella said with a nod. "Have you ever heard of the angelic power rune?"

"No, what is it?" Joshua asked, tilting his head.

"A very ancient rune we stopped using even before I was born. Too many people were being hurt by those using it, and being hurt themselves. The only thing is that it's most likely the only rune powerful enough to counter whatever happened to me," Bella explained.

"Are you really willing to risk injury to do this? What repercussions should we expect from using this?" Carlisle chimed in.

"I have to be, if I'm to be any use during this battle coming up. As far as what'll happen, the worst-case scenario is my death. Best, nothing. Most likely, it won't work immediately and I'll slowly get my vision back over the next few days, but I won't have access to any of my runes until I have it back. It'll use all of my energy that I would normally spend on smaller runes and spells. Basically, I'll be in the same boat I am now."

"Unless you die," I mumbled, and she shrugged.

"Yes, there's that."

"How does it work?" Marianne said, her voice soft. Her thoughts were undecided about whether or not we should try Bella's idea, but she wasn't completely opposed to it just yet.

"Well, Edward brought up the idea of somehow bypassing my optic nerve, the one running from my eyes to my brain, and creating a new one using a rune instead of something organic. I would basically be seeing with the rune and not my eyes. To do that and make it last, I want to use the angelic power rune and channel it into a creativity rune. My hope is that it'll enhance the power of the creativity rune to the point where it won't fade and will be able to handle channeling my vision," Bella explained, staring straight ahead. She didn't know it, but she was looking right at Rose, and Rose was shifting from foot to foot in obvious discomfort from it.

"Medically, it sounds like it'll work. My only concern is that fact that we'd be combining an already volatile rune with another rune and hoping for the best. Besides, is this rune for _creation_ or creativity?" Carlisle said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the floor.

"I know it's risky, even without adding another rune to the mix, but I don't have any other option. I have a working knowledge of every rune that's ever been in existence, and I know this is the only one that'll work. We never made a rune to create new, working body parts. This is the closest we'll get to that. Fixing what's already there isn't working. The rune itself can be used to make something . . . not tangible . . . _real_ when it's combined with one that'll make it stronger."

"What about combining this angel rune with the healing one?" Emmett said. "You already have the nerve there, so why make a new one?"

"We can't tell whether or not her nerve is still even intact. With how much she bled, it could have completely disintegrated. I'd normally be able to look through her pupil and see it, but she doesn't have one. My own opinion is that it's probably not attached, and it's highly likely that it's not there at all," Carlisle explained, jumping on Emmett's comment.

"So what does it look like?" Joshua asked, pulling a magazine from the table over to him and taking a pen from his jacket.

"It's diamond-shaped with the lines meeting towards the top sweeping out to either side and looping back slightly, but the end doesn't touch the lines stemming from the body of the rune," Bella explained, and Joshua tried to draw it. She gave him a minute to do so before speaking again.

"You know what the creativity rune looks like, right?" she asked.

"Yes. I would draw it right into this power rune for the best result, but what are you thinking?" Joshua said, studying his final product. It didn't mean anything to me, but he and Marianne studied it like a holy scripture.

"I agree," Bella said with a nod. She leaned back into the chair with a sigh.

"Bella," Esme mumbled, "how likely is it that you won't survive this rune? Honestly?"

"Honestly? Maybe fifty-fifty," she said with a sad smile. "It's just that powerful."

"Why not just fix her vision rune? Maybe that's what took it away to begin with, and you wouldn't have to make anything," Rose said from across the room. She wouldn't look at anyone, but everyone turned to her.

"What exactly are you thinking, Rose?" Jasper asked, glaring at her. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, refusing to say anymore.

"Remake her permanent vision rune and use something to control it so it doesn't get out of hand like it did before . . . repair the rune, not her eyes," I said, pulling her idea from her thoughts.

"Damn you, Edward," she growled, and stomped out of the room. I ignored her and looked at Joshua and Marianne.

"Will that work?"

"I could put a containment rune on it," Bella said, leaning forward again, her elbows resting on her knees and her chin in her hands.

"Will the vision rune even stay?" Josh asked, and she shrugged.

"The only way to know is to try. We'll have to make it over the original, though," she said, and I thought of the thin slash I had made through the symbol.

"Will a scar affect it at all? I had to cut through it to get her last vision to stop," I said, my voice getting lower towards the end.

"I can heal it so the scar is minimal. It shouldn't affect it at all," Marianne said, giving me an understanding smile.

"Should we try this before the other one, then?" Josh asked, and I nodded.

"The power rune should be our last resort," I said, glancing at Bella.

"What would be the best containment, though . . . a circle around the vision rune with three spokes connecting them, I think," she said to herself, and Joshua drew it out on the magazine.

"That should work. It'll leave the rune free enough to give you visions without you needing to activate it, but keep it from attacking you like it did before," he mused.

"Then let's do it," Bella said.

"Well, lay down then, Miss Bella," Joshua said, clapping his hands together in excitement.

I pulled the lever out for the foot rest and pushed on the back of the chair, laying her down as flat as it would go. He moved to her side and lifted the hem of Bella's shirt just above her mauled rune, the skin still slightly inflamed from my attack. He drew a little symbol next to it and the skin glowed for a moment before going back to normal like it had never been injured. The rune itself disappeared into thin lines like little faded scars, a backward-facing number three with a tail coming off the bottom and a slash down the middle.

Marianne's cell phone rang all of a sudden, and she hurried into the kitchen as her brother started on Bella's vision rune. Bella was mumbling about leaving both the vision and containment runes incomplete until the very last line so he could finish them at the same moment, but my focus was drawn to Marianne's conversation.

". . . under attack, Miss. Word is spreading from the east coast about vampires slaughtering Nephilim in the streets. The Volturi landed in Maine, Virginia, and Georgia only yesterday, and they're already in New York, , and Alabama," a female voice said through the phone. "How do you want to proceed here?"

"Prepare for battle, Nicole. Get everyone training. Keep track of their movements and try to find a way to get us around them if we need to evacuate the children. I'll see if an old friend is able to help us, as well. Gather everyone and tell them," Marianne said in a whisper before hanging up, and I looked at Alice.

"Only six days," she thought to me, and I nodded, turning back to Bella. Her body was tense. She heard.

Joshua leaned back with a grimace, the smell of burning skin floating up from Bella's side. He had finished her rune, so I let Bella's chair slowly go up again. Her eyes were still pure white, but I kept my mouth shut as the rune started to glow. The only way we would know if this had worked was for her to try it, and there were four possibilities: it wouldn't work at all, it would work and fade, it would work and damage her eyes further, or it would be successful and not fade away or hurt her.

_So, we have a twenty-five percent chance of this working out the way we want it to_, I thought as Bella went into a vision. Not good odds, but we needed them to be good enough.


	43. Chapter 42

(Not a whole lot of timefor writing this week, so we're playing catch-up with the other side...)

_Chapter 42: Aro_

Six days until battle…

Somewhere in Alabama…

"Master Aro, all the Nephilim warriors are dead. How do you wish to proceed?" one of my guard members asked. As I looked around, I saw only one of our fighters slain.

"Burn him and we will move on," I responded, turning from the scene and heading back towards our temporary abode.

"But sir, he can still regenerate. Do you still wish to eliminate him?" I ignored his question as Felix took care of the job.

"He lost his battle. His life is now forfeit," he growled at the younger member. "You would do best to learn from his mistake before you end up just as dead for questioning Master Aro."

I smiled at Felix's explanation as I walked into the small house my brothers were waiting for me in. Caius was standing against the wall, watching our guard finish off the dying. Marcus was sitting at the table with a strained look on his face. I kept telling him he needed to shut off his ability when we went on expeditions such as this, but he refused. I couldn't understand why, but I didn't bother to ask for a reason. As long as he did what needed to be done, I had no reason to inquire.

"What's next, brother? This fighting is too easy. Let's just go after the girl and get it over with," Caius asked without looking from the window.

"Patience, my brother. I don't want to destroy her if we don't have to. She would be the ultimate addition to our guard," I explained as I sat across the table from Marcus. "By annihilating her friends and allies, we show her just how powerful we are. I hope to convince her to give in instead of force our hands. We will destroy the Cullens for harboring her no matter what, but we can use them as leverage. Come with us and save them, or the like. Besides, the fewer Nephilim, the fewer non-vampires encroaching on our control. They wish to regulate interaction between the human and non-human worlds, but as we well know, that is our job. They have no business punishing vampires for attacking humans, especially when not all of them are threatening to expose us."

"So we'll continue to take their schools and kill all of those inside, yes?" Caius asked, and I nodded once.

"That is indeed the plan, brother. We will show this little girl just how strong we are, and if she decides not to join us, she will watch as we kill every last one of her people and her misfit vampires. Nephilim should answer to _us_, and we'll make sure of it. Starting today, vampires will reign supreme, and all others will serve _us_," I said, smiling as I imagined the possibilities.

Vampires would walk the streets without having to hide their fangs, their strength, their speed. Humans would be born and die for the sole purpose of supporting the lives of vampires, and only a chosen few would join us. Those vampires found unworthy of the name would be eliminated. The other supernatural species would be allowed to live, but only by the mercy of my brothers and me. We would rule . . . _everything_.

"Our day is coming, my brothers, by way of one Isabella Swan. The Nephilim's chosen one will be the end of her own kind. Ironic, isn't it?"


	44. Chapter 43

_Chapter 43: Bella_

I slipped into a vision as soon as Joshua finished the rune, not wanting to give myself the opportunity to think about the possibilities. I looked for something small, like what was going to happen tomorrow, and everything came so quickly and easily that I looked even further ahead. My mind bubbled with happiness as I looked further. That is, until I saw the battle.

Just like before, we were completely surrounded. I was keeping most of the Volturi's guard away with my shield, and the Cullens were fighting off those who were able to somehow slip through. One darted at me and Edward slammed him into the ground, easily removing his head and throwing it into the fire Esme had just started in the middle of the scene. We seemed like we were winning until I saw something rush by where I was and I fell to my knees. I could actually see my shield waver and a bunch of guard members rushed in, all of them heading for me. The Cullens tried to get in between them and me, but we were overwhelmed. The vision ended and I tried to push further ahead, but what felt like a wall stood between me and the end of the battle. For whatever reason, I wasn't supposed to find out.

I let my rune go and came back to the present, feeling Edward's hands on my biceps as he kneeled in front of me. Happiness warmed me as I thought of my success and I opened my eyes, but everything was still black. A cry of disappointment almost escaped me at my continued blindness, but I squashed it.

"Well, the rune is still in place. The containment is still strong, neither faded at all, and you had no pain with your vision, so I'd say it was successful," Joshua said, a hand I guessed was his messing with the hem of my shirt by my rune.

"But you still can't see," Edward said softly, his thumbs brushing over the skin of my arms. I nodded and faced my lap, letting my hair fall in front of my face.

"Hey," Edward said, taking one of his hands and lifting my chin back up, "don't get all mopey just yet. Do you know what your eyes look like?"

I tensed and waited for his answer, not willing to move until he told me. He chuckled, making me feel the absence of stifling tension in the room.

"What?" I asked, feeling a mix of hope and impatience flaring in me. "What is it?"

"You're eyes are grey," he whispered, gently taking my face into his hands. "They're normal again."

"Then why can't I see?" I gasped, trying to shake my head in his grip.

"They just changed back, Bella. Give yourself time to catch up."

"He's right, Bella," Carlisle said from across the room. "This is just like when you woke up in the hospital and needed to recharge before you were able to use your runes. Let your eyes learn to see again."

"We don't have that kind of time, Carlisle. The Volturi are moving on schedule. They'll be here in five days, and all of us need to be ready. _I_ need to be ready. I need to be at my strongest by then or we're doomed."

"You saw further into the battle?" Jasper asked.

"I'll be using my shield over everyone to limit the number of Volturi members all of you are fighting. I can't be depleted at all for that to work, and I need to be able to see."

"If you saw it, then you'll be able to see. That's how your visions work, isn't it?" Edward asked, rubbing his thumbs over my cheeks in reassurance.

"Not with this one. I knew for a fact that my visions before all of this happened were going to come true and _needed_ to happen that way, but this one felt . . . different. It was like my visions back before my original one of Carlisle's attack. The course of events I see is what has the highest probability of happening, but it doesn't mean it _will_ happen," I rambled, feeling my mind become unfocused on my surroundings as I gave my explanation.

"Hey, come back to us, Bella, Edward said, his breath rushing over my face. "Wherever it is you're going, come back."

"I'm here," I said with a small smile, still not completely focused. "I just don't like to hope for things that may not be."

"We'll hope for you, then," Esme's voice said from some distance away, off to my right. "Just don't act like the probability is so low that it's not worth thinking about, Bella."

"What do we do now, then?" I asked after a few moments, unsure of what to say to Esme.

"We need to prepare everyone, I think," Carlisle said. "The Nephilim children should be moved, the wolves should be notified of the Volturi's pending arrival, and we need to train. You said it was the guard we'd be fighting, so we need to be prepared for their abilities."

"I have my shield so, until I can see, I can't really train for hand-to-hand," I said with a shrug, and Edward dropped his hands to my lap, taking my hands in his.

"These hands will not be fighting as long as I have anything to say about it," he growled, lightly squeezing my hands to make his point, and I froze.

_No_, I thought.

Visions of George and the few years I had to endure him flashed before my mind's eye. Everything I said or did had been controlled by him, scripted to hide that very fact. A wrong word or motion was met with violent force and harsh words. Worst of all, I didn't go on a single mission after my marriage. I couldn't do something I loved and needed because it gave me too much confidence in myself.

_This can't be. This can't happen._

"I have fought before and will fight if I have to, Edward, and you won't stop me. I will do what needs to be done in order to protect my people and this family, no matter what," I countered, my voice low and threatening. I slowly drew my hands from his and sat as straight as possible. "You will not coddle me like a child."

A smack across the face because I talked back . . . A dislocated shoulder because I agreed to go on a mission . . . broken fingers after I burned dinner.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't mean it like that," he said, his voice apologetic, but I didn't move.

"That statement is exactly what I feared would happen if I let anyone get close or help me," I mumbled, standing abruptly and moving towards where I remembered a door leading outside.

I heard Hermes's wings flapping and stopped, letting him land on my shoulder and guide me to the door. He squeezed my shoulder just a tiny bit with his right claw, telling me to turn that way slightly. When he squeezed with both, I stopped and reached forward and my hand bumped the doorknob.

"Bella, please," Edward said, but I didn't turn or take my hand from the knob.

"I told you, Edward. I will not rely on others to care for me. I will not let others take care of me when I can do it myself."

I walked out the door and closed it behind me, allowing Hermes to direct me down the steps. I walked quickly across the lawn, resisting the urge to run only because I didn't want to fall over something. Hermes squawked when I reached the trees and I navigated the forest with my hands moving from being in front of me to my sides and back again. I lost track at thirty trees, using number thirty-one as a back rest as I sat down with my knees bent. Hermes settled himself on my knees, gently rocking from foot to foot as he stood.  
The grass felt cool under my bare feet, my shoes forgotten. A soft breeze rustled the branches above my head and Hermes spread his wings to catch it. Wisps of flame brushed against my cheek and I closed my eyes with a small smile on my face. The contrasting coolness and heat made me shiver, and Hermes cooed at me in response.

"I'm okay, Hermes," I said softly. After a moment, I said, "I haven't thought about George in a very long time." Hermes screeched at the name and I shushed him, telling him it was okay.

It was true, though. I hardly ever thought about him and what I went through. Thinking back, I knew I had overreacted, but I had heard similar comments from my late husband. How he wouldn't let me do this or say that. Edward didn't mean it the same way, that much I knew, but the attack of memories surprised me. I hadn't forgotten about George, but I had thought him to be locked away in the darkest corner of my mind.

Hermes cooed, the sound off to my left, and I heard footsteps approaching. They were light, so it wasn't any of the boys, but not dancing steps like Alice's. That left Esme, but the steps were hesitant, like whoever it was wasn't sure they should be there.

"Rosalie?" I mumbled, and the steps stopped. My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

She didn't respond, instead walking up to me and sitting down on my left side. I turned my head slightly to the left, but I didn't know exactly where she was. Hermes jumped into my lap and sat down, his body tense with unease after my last confrontation with Rosalie. I buried my fingers in his feathers, trying to calm both of us.

"He didn't mean it," she said, making me jump. I didn't think she'd speak so quickly.

"I know. I overreacted," I said, looking down towards Hermes.

"Why?" she asked, and I gave a tense smile.

"You're not the only one with a tough history with husbands." That seemed to take her by surprise, if her silence was any hint, so I explained myself.

"I was forced to marry someone twice my age when I was fifteen. He controlled everything I said or did from day one. He hit and yelled at me all the time, and didn't let me do anything I enjoyed. If I did, I was punished." I paused for a moment and took a deep breath before I continued. "I had my first and only child by him."

"What do you mean?" she said, her voice low. She knew exactly what I meant, though.

"He was drunk. I was still a child. I became a mother. I lost them both when we were attacked. Mary was only three years old when it happened. She could barely talk."

"I didn't know," she whispered after a few moments, her voice tight.

"It's not something I talk about much," I said with a shrug.

"So you . . . know. How it feels, I mean."

"Yes. Yes, I know."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

We sat out there in the middle of the woods for a long time, not a word more passing between us. It was a companionable silence. A friendly silence. An understanding silence.


	45. Chapter 44

_Chapter 44: Edward_

Bella and Rose had been gone for a while, and I was starting to worry. Jasper kept throwing calming waves at me and I responded with a glare. He just shrugged and did it again. I sighed and shook my head, looking out the window in the direction Bella and Rose went when they left. I couldn't hear anything from Bella's mind, and Rose's thoughts were broken, like she was almost out of my range.

"Don't worry about them, Edward. Rosalie wasn't hostile when she left. More curious than anything, actually," Jasper said.

"I can't help it, Jasper, not knowing that the Volturi are out to get her. Someone is here now, if what happened to her house is any proof. What Rose said before doesn't help, either. I know it's true." I sat down on the couch and ran my hand roughly through my hair.

"They need this time if they are ever going to live peacefully together, Edward," Carlisle said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I didn't respond, instead focusing on Rose's mind in the hopes that I could get enough from her to know exactly what was going on. I didn't, of course, but I could tell that something had happened between them. Rosalie's mind was much calmer, instead of nervous and curious as it had been earlier.

"Don't bring it up again when she comes back," Alice said. "Give it a little while before you try apologizing again."

"Are you sure?" I asked, staring at the coffee table.

"Yes. If you bring it up as soon as she comes back, she'll only shut down again like she was when she first came here. She won't let you close to her."

"I really messed up," I mumbled, and Emmett smacked me on the back.

"Yep, and just so you know, if you drive her away with your protective crap, I'll make sure you can't remember your own name," he said, and I scoffed.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, brother."

"No problem. Just doing my job."

I shook my head and stood by the window, staring between the two trees Bella had walked by before she disappeared into the woods. The bushes just beyond them swayed slightly with the breeze, mocking me with their movement as I waited for Bella to emerge from between them.

The others took their seats around the coffee table and talked strategy, but I paid them no mind. As long as I didn't know where Bella was, the battle was the last thing from my mind. Besides, I knew they were discussing the powers the Volturi had in their ranks and how we could protect ourselves from them. Our only option was Bella's shield, which we knew we would be relying on from her vision. I really didn't know what else there was to discuss.

"Sit down, Edward," Esme said, walking up next to me and wrapping her arm around my shoulders. "If she feels you standing at the window, she'll know you've been watching for her. That won't help your case."

I couldn't really argue with that, so I followed her back to the couch and sat down, staring at the coffee table as I continued to listen for Rosalie's thoughts. Another few minutes passed before her thoughts grew stronger, signaling that she was coming back towards the house. She was thinking about what Bella had told her, mainly what her husband had done to her before he and the rest of Bella's family were killed, but she wouldn't go into anything specific. I could hear a second pair of footsteps in the background of her thoughts, so I assumed Bella was coming back with her.

_Let her come to you_, Rose thought, knowing I was listening. _If you try to approach her too soon, she'll just back away. She knows I showed you what we talked about. Don't mess this up._

She showed me Bella's face, how she had a far-away look in her grey eyes as she relived memories from so long ago, memories no one but she and Rose knew about. To my surprise, Rose showed me their conversation. Anger boiled in me as I listened to Bella talk about her late husband, and it took all of my control not to jump up and run away with her when the front door opened.

_Calm down, Edward_, Jasper warned me. _She'll feel your tension if you don't knock it off._

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm myself down before Bella got too close. My hands were tensed as I gripped my knees, images of Bella being hit and screamed at still floating through my mind. I just couldn't imagine someone doing that to her. I told myself he was lucky he was already dead because he wouldn't have lived much longer. I jumped as Bella's hand gently touched my shoulder.

"Do you understand now?" she asked, and I nodded.

"Yes, I do," I said, my voice tight.

"Don't be angry with him, Edward. He is long dead. You must remember that marriages like mine were not unusual back then. It seems despicable to you now, I know, but that was common when I was growing up. Growing up and experiencing what I did is exactly why I won't let anyone control me and why I won't let anyone else fight my battles."

"I still don't like it," I mumbled, turning to look at her. She was looking straight ahead but turned toward me when she felt my movement.

"You don't have to. I don't, but it's made me who I am. I can't forget that."

She squeezed my shoulder lightly and I felt myself start to relax. I put my hand over hers as I continued to breathe deeply, pushing the images from my mind as I thought over what Bella had said. It was true, our past experiences helped shape us, but I still couldn't imagine someone enjoying intentionally causing a person like Bella pain. She didn't give me too long to think about it, though, as she walked around me and sat down to my left, her arm pressed against mine. She turned her hand until her palm was up and ran her finger down my arm, taking my hand when she found it. All I could do was stare, I was so surprised. The familiar zap as our skin touched was a welcome feeling after my mess up, and so was her sigh as she leaned into me slightly. We definitely needed to talk.

"What have we been discussing?" she asked, like everything was normal. Out of pure curiosity, I spread my fingers just a tiny bit to see what she would do. To my amazement, she threaded her fingers through mine and listened to Carlisle as he filled her in.

"We were listing the abilities within the Volturi guard and how we would be able to counter them, but we made very little headway. Jasper can use his ability to slow them down, but that doesn't stop powers like Jane's that attack the mind. As far as we can see, we'll need to rely on your shield to block both their advances and their abilities," he said, and Bella nodded.

"I thought as much. Alice can use her visions to help her own battles, and that goes for Edward's mind-reading, but you, Emmett, Esme, and Rosalie all will really need to watch out for yourselves. We'll need to keep the battle field small for me to be able to cover all of you for an extended period of time while giving you room to battle. I don't know exactly how long I'll be able to keep it up as it is."

"While we're practicing hand-to-hand, maybe that's what you should be working on. Find a way to cover us but not deplete yourself too fast," I said, squeezing her fingers lightly.

"Mmm, yes, but I'll still need a little hand-to-hand warm-up. I can do that closer to the day of the battle, though, and give my eyes time to heal. Then we'll know exactly what I need to focus on, depending on my degree of sight."

"Speaking of your eyes, dear, shouldn't you be resting?" Esme said, and Bella shrugged.

"I suppose. There's really nothing else I can do here. You guys can decide how you want to train and I'll try to sleep." She stood but didn't let go of my hand. "You and I have some things to discuss beforehand, though, Edward."

No one spoke as I followed Bella out of the living room and led her up the stairs to my room, her hand not loosening its grip on mine. I closed my door behind us, a fruitless attempt at privacy in a house with superior hearing, and brought her over to the couch. She sat down slowly, letting go of me to feel for the cushion, and I sat next to her.

"You are confused," she stated.

"Yes, just a little," I mumbled. "What's going on with you? You're . . . changing."

"Is there something in particular?" she asked, obviously fighting a smile.

"Well, it looks as though you know exactly what I'm talking about, Isabella Swan," I said, turning in my seat so that I was facing her. "Why are you so touchy all of a sudden?"

She was silent for a minute, staring at the wall across from her. I looked for Jasper's mind, trying to see if he was reading her emotions, but he was too focused on possible battle scenarios. I watched her as she thought, looking at the smooth curve of her cheek as it disappeared behind her hair. It was a dark color, her hair, not black but still a very dark brown with a nice shine. It made the light grey of her eyes brighter, more noticeable. They still weren't the shining silver Carlisle remembered, but they weren't the stormy grey they had been before she went blind, either.

"I've never had someone I could lean on," she said softly, drawing my back from my observations. "My parents made me independent from a very young age. I really never learned to trust anyone. I never had a reason to. I let myself have allies, but I never got the feeling that anything would last. It was no surprise to me that it never did. This is . . . different."

"How so?" I asked, trying not to sound too desperate for information.

"We are allies, your family and I, but there's something else there. I feel like I can allow myself . . . friendship, like I can get close to all of you. I've been fighting it for decades now, convincing myself that it was for the best. After everything that's happened over the past few days, though . . . I don't know if I want to." She looked down, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she bit her lip.

"You feel like this is your family, too," I guessed, and she slowly nodded.

"'Mother of us all.' Isn't that what Emmett called me? In a very twisted way, I made myself a family. The thing is, I'm just finding out that maybe . . . I like it. I like having a family to turn to, that looks out for me and is always there when I need them. I don't feel as alone anymore," she whispered, and I put my hand on her knee.

"Bella, you need to know, accept, and understand that all of those things you just said, about us looking out for you and being there for you, they are all true as long as you need us. You are more than just a friend to us, please know that." I took her hands in both of mine, trying to convince her. She moved her hands so that one of mine was intertwined with one of hers, raising her head so she was looking just to my right.

"I do know that," she said, giving me the closest thing to a real smile that I had seen in a very long time. It was quickly broken, though, as a yawn fought her.

"You need to rest, but I don't have a bed. I can set you up here on the couch," I said, squeezing one of her hands.

"I just need a blanket. You don't have to go too crazy."

I stood up from the couch and grabbed a comforter from the hallway closet. Bella stretched herself out on the couch, resting her head on the arm and bending her legs closer to her to make room for me as I came back. I draped the blanket over her and she nestled her face into it, inhaling deeply. I moved towards the door, but a small "wait" stopped me. I turned and looked at her in confusion.

"Stay?" she asked, moving her feet to gesture at the free cushion, and I walked back over to her.

"You sure?" She nodded once and I sat down, putting her legs across my lap. She was asleep almost immediately.


	46. Chapter 45

_Chapter 45: Bella_

"Jane and Alec's powers are going to be the hardest to fight if they manage to get past my shield, so maybe Jasper can try to mimic them as much as he came," I said, sitting against a tree on the sidelines of our makeshift training field.

The Cullens had been training for two days now, but they've been focusing mostly on the physical aspect of the fight. We still had to worry about at least two serious abilities on the other side and the fact that no one but me could possibly stop them. This was day three, so I really wanted them focusing on blocking abilities.

I watched their blurry forms as they gathered in front of me. I was only seeing very slight shadows yesterday morning when I woke up, and now they had distinctly human shaped. I just had a very hard time telling one person from another unless Alice and Emmett were standing next to each other. Light was visible to me, but once it got dark, I might as well have been fully blind again. No one but Carlisle knew I had gotten any better, though. I didn't want to get hopes up in case I never really improved.

"We could try that, see what everyone's pain tolerance is. I don't know how well I can mimic Alec's, though. I can make them feel numb, but they'd still have their senses," Jasper said, standing a little off to my right. I kept my eyes forward and angled towards the ground to keep them from getting suspicious.

Edward had asked me this morning when I woke up if my sight seemed to be coming back, and all I told him was that it seemed like _something_ was happening, but I couldn't be sure. I had rolled onto my side so I was facing him, forgetting for a moment to look just past his face, which was what spurred his question. I still couldn't see any details of his face, but I busied myself with putting the details from my memories on him. He was beautiful in both his vampire and human forms, but I wasn't about to say that out loud. I was taking a leap just by having him lay with me while I slept. He didn't seem to mind at all, but I was just a little self-conscious about it.

"Anything will help, I think. As long as all of you have experience with something at least similar, you'll be better prepared. I know you've met them before, but this is under different circumstances. It's not exactly a friendly fight that we'll be going into," I said, drawing my knees to my chest and resting my chin on them. My arms were wrapped around my legs, and Edward put his hands on my forearms as he knelt down in front of me.

"I know I've said this before, but we know exactly what we're getting into and what the risks are. We are fighting with you because we won't let family fight alone. Got it?" he said, squeezing my arms slightly. I smiled and nodded.

"I know, I know, now go do your training. Just beware, I'll be trying to isolate my shield today. If you suddenly feel boxed in, chances are you are."

They mumbled something snarky as they wandered off to practice, but Jasper sat down next to me. He didn't say anything, so neither did I. I felt him using his power, the pulse heading right for Emmett. A huff like a punch to the gut came from his direction, and he snarled.

"Damn it, Jasper, knock it off! Not cool!" he said, doubled over.

"Nothing like a punch to the nuts to start off your day," he said with a satisfied sigh. I laughed lightly and shook my head, the first real laugh I'd had in a long time.

"That's not exactly part of the training," I said, still smiling.

"Maybe not, but now I know I can do it. The pain thing, I mean, not punching him. And it put a smile on your face, which is nice. Edward is quite happy with it."

"I guess it did serve some purpose," I said, giving in and shaking my head again.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed my pain, Bella," Emmett said, sarcasm rolling off his words.

"I'm sorry, Emmett, but it was funny."

I didn't respond, instead closing my eyes and focusing on expanding my shield over their battlefield. It wasn't all that big and I had no trouble keeping it covered for over an hour, much longer than I expected the battle to last. The problem was that I didn't think the field would be as small as this one, and I didn't have vampires or abilities beating away at it. I was going to be blocking physical attacks as vampires tried to join the fighting, as well as mental attacks. If a vampire got to me, I'd also have to fight them off and keep the shield up at the same time. Was I worried about being able to hold it? Hell yes.

A feminine gasp off to my left signaled Jasper's first victim, and it was followed by the crash and bang of two stones colliding. I followed the flow of his power with my shield, finding Rosalie under attack by both him and Edward. I waited a few seconds as he increased the pain before encasing her mind in my shield, the increase in her attacks on Edward showing my success.

"Are you feeling any pain?" I asked, not opening my eyes.

"No, not at all," she said, obviously smiling.

I withdrew from her mind and she huffed as the pain returned. Focusing on her body this time, I cocooned her to block Edward's attacks.

"Describe it to me," I mumbled.

"I can still move, but I can't touch him and he can't touch me. The pain is gone again, too," Rosalie said, and Edward mumbled his agreement.

"Jasper, can you move the pain to Edward? I want to try something."

Keeping Rosalie wrapped up, I followed Jasper's power to Edward's mind. He was pushing a heavy wave on Edward, driving him to his knees and making him groan from the intensity. I quickly wrapped my shield around his mind and he released his gasping breaths in one burst, his form slumping forward as I freed him from Jasper's power. I felt Jasper fighting me, trying to get a hold of Edward again, but I was able to keep him at bay fairly easily.

"Okay, something a little harder now," he whispered, and I could almost see tendrils of power lashing out towards the rest of the Cullens at the same time.

I attached my shield to them, wrapping it around the end of the tendrils just as they hit their target, everyone either gasping or groaning for a brief second before my shield covered their minds. I watched in fascination as the glowing white tendrils attacked my shield, a cloudy white mist-like thing focused on their heads. They wrapped around the Cullens and tried in vain to puncture my grip on their minds. Jasper added Rosalie and Edward to his attack again, making me cover all of them at the same time and focus on keeping the individual shields up.

All of a sudden, pain wracked my body and I fell onto my side with my hands clutching my head. I felt my shields dispersing as I fought off Jasper's attack on me, and I quickly reformed them again, including one around myself. He increased his attack, the tendrils growing thicker with the level of pain he was trying to push on us, and they actually tried burrowing through my shields.

A second tendril spun out towards each of us, this one feeling of nothing as it touched the shields. I thickened them as Jasper's power continued its attack, but I could feel the effort starting to wear on me. Wanting to see just how far I could push myself, I spread the shields to cover our whole bodies. I was able to hold those shields with a little effort, so I made another one surrounding our small group and expanded it over the whole training field. My energy really started flagging then, the shields visibly falling apart as I surveyed what I'd done. I had to let go a few minutes later and tapped Jasper to let him know.

"How do you feel?" Edward asked, kneeling in front of me. I was gasping for breath a little, and Jasper answered for me.

"Tired and worried, as we all are. She did very well, though. She covered each of your minds individually and was able to block both pain and numbness," he said. "She just can't forget herself when she makes those little shields."

"I covered your whole bodies and the field itself," I said, finally catching my breath enough to speak. "I wanted to see just how much I can do, but I can't keep that much up for very long. Maybe ten minutes tops, and that's without having vampires pushing against the outer shield or Jane and Alec's powers being at full strength."

"So . . . we're in trouble?" Emmett asked, and I pulled my knees up tight to my chest, resting my temple against them. Edward sat down next to me and put his hand on the back of my head. I turned my face towards him and he rested his hand on my temple, his fingers moving gently through my hair.

"If I'm not careful about how I do this, then yes. Yes, we are."


	47. Chapter 46

_Chapter 46: Bella_

The Cullens had been training non-stop for the past few days, and so had I. Unlike them, though, I had to stop to sleep in order to keep my strength up. Esme insisted that I eat every time I took a short break, too, but no one budged when I suggested they go hunting. It was rather irritating, but I could tell they were extremely worried about my shield and wanted to make sure they were as prepared as possible if I couldn't hold it up as long as I needed to.

Today was the day before the battle, and I had finally managed to convince them all to hunt. They had been gone for a little over an hour, and I was taking the quiet time to nap. I had been really pushing myself the past few days, and the steady thumping in my skull told me to take it easy today if I wanted to be of any use tomorrow. I couldn't even sit up without the room spinning and a spike of pain driving itself through my skull. If I had been eating regularly, I would've thrown up by now.

I nodded off for a while and drifted in and out of sleep. I was sleeping in the guest room, as Edward didn't have a bed, and he had joined me every night after I had asked him to. He was getting close to me, much closer than I ever thought I would let anyone be, but I was grudgingly realizing that I actually _liked_ it. I liked having someone who cared about me and wanted to help me no matter what. I liked not feeling _alone_ for once. Yes, I had Darrel, Neera, Hermes, and—for short times—Carlisle, but this was different. He wasn't with me just for now. I had no idea where Darrel was, Neera was long dead from old age, and Hermes wasn't a person. Not physically, at least. He cared like one person would about another, but it wasn't the same as how Edward cared. I couldn't really put it into words, but I knew there was _more_ to Edward's care of me than to Hermes's.

I felt myself rising up out of sleep again just as the bed sank down behind me. The covers had been pulled up and tucked around my shoulders, separating me from Edward's body as he laid down behind me. He gently brushed my hair back from my face and put his fingers on my temple.

"How are you feeling? Still have a headache?" he asked, and I groaned in response.

He moved his hand to my forehead, the thumps lessening slightly with the coolness. I put my own hand on his and pressed my forehead harder against his hand, desperate to force my heartbeat back into my chest instead of my head. It felt a little better for only a moment before increasing again, right back to before Edward had come in. I groaned in pain and let my hand fall next to my face on the pillow.

"Hang on, Bella," Edward mumbled, and his coolness disappeared for a moment before settling next to me under the covers.

He gently turned me onto my other side so I was facing him and put his hands on either of my temples, putting his body right up against mine and pressing his mouth to my forehead. I tensed at the feel of his lips and he froze, waiting for my response. Any train of thought or worry disappeared as his cool breath rushed over my face, making my headache lessen again. I sighed and released the tension from my body, making him do the same in response. I felt myself wanting to protest the contact, but the relief was just too much to give up.

"We heard from Marianne and Joshua today," he whispered, trying to keep his voice from hurting my head. "They said the Volturi are getting more vicious in their attacks. Men, women, children, human, Nephilim, even other vampires who don't join with them are being killed on the spot. Their arrival time for tomorrow keeps changing, too. Marianne is sending the students from the schools in Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and Montana up into Canada for their safety, as well as a bunch of Nephilim fighters. They've heard of survivors back towards the East Coast, but there's really nothing to be done for them right now, not until we get this over with. Joshua has been training the Nephilim staying to protect the Seattle school, but they don't hold much hope for it."

"Try to save it. Too bad if we can't," I mumbled, bringing my hands over my eyes and sighing softly. "Will need it if we survive."

He sighed at my doubt but didn't argue. It was a testament to just how worried he was, even if he was trying not to show it. I pushed my face against his chest and he rested the side of his head on mine. Edward suddenly whispered, "Come in," but I didn't bother to look up.

"How are you today, Isabella?" Carlisle asked, and Edward answered for me, repeating everything we'd talked about. Carlisle hummed in thought.

"What about your sight? Has that improved at all?" he said.

"Don't know. Haven't opened eyes much," I mumbled, and he chuckled.

"Can you try? I'll pull the window curtains closed."

I groaned in response and freed myself from Edward's grip just enough to turn my head towards the ceiling. The movement caused my head to spin before I even opened my eyes, but when I finally did, I gasped.

The white ceiling above my head was almost clear in detail, every small crack swimming in and out of my slightly blurred vision. I turned towards Edward again and was met with blurry gold circles and a crooked smile topped with reddish-gold fuzz. I reached up and touched it, feeling the fine copper threads I couldn't quite see. I followed the lines of Edward's face from his hair to his forehead and down his nose, seeing more detail with my impaired vision than I had stored in my memory. My fingers passed under Edward's eye and it fluttered closed at my touch. Moving on, I traced his jaw from his ear to his chin before moving back up slightly to pass my index finger over his bottom lip. He bent just a little and kissed the tip of my finger, making my breath catch and my body tense up. I fought it back, though, and relaxed again.

"Hello, there," Edward said, reaching up and taking my hand in his.

"Hi."

"I don't mean to interrupt, but we have something we need to talk about," Carlisle said, his voice apologetic as it came from behind Edward. I gave him a curious look, my head giving a nice twinge of pain at the movement, and I laid my head back down. Edward slipped his hand between my cheek and the pillow, and I sighed in relief. My headache was slowly—_slowly_—getting better.

"The werewolves, Bella. Have you met them?" he asked, and I gently shook my head in a "no."

"The Quileute Indians on the La Push reservation are werewolves, but not like the Children of the Moon. They can shift at will and turn into actual wolves instead of the hybrid creatures you know so well," he explained, and I gave him a small smile.

"I've heard stories, but I haven't sought them out," I said quietly, trying not to bring the thumping back.

"Alice, Jasper, and I will be heading there later to talk with them. I don't know if they'll be willing to help us, but I want them to know what's going on so they can protect their people."

"I'll come," I said, immediately trying to sit up and landing on my side again as my head swirled. The hammer pounding in there threatened to start up again, but it faded away as I laid still.

"I think not, Bella, but I will send your regards. I can ask Marianne if she can come, if it would make you feel better." I nodded once.

"Okay, that's what I'll do. You keep resting, Bella. We need you," Carlisle whispered, reaching over Edward to put his hand on my shoulder for a moment.

"I know."


	48. Chapter 47

_Chapter 47: Bella_

"No one will help us," Carlisle said, sitting across the dining room table from me, his elbows resting on the table in front of him.

I had finally managed to sit up and not go for a ride at the change in elevation only after my last nap, so I had asked Edward if he could help me to the table so I could eat something. He was hesitant, but I had a feeling if I laid back down, I'd be dizzy all over again. So, Edward was sitting right next to me, his body turned and his hand on the back of my chair. I could feel him wanting to hover, but he kept a foot between us when I gave him a warning look.

"I expected as much, Carlisle. The Nephilim will be worried about protecting the schools, the wolves their tribe, and other vampires their own skins. The Volturi are coming for me, not them. They'll do everything they can to protect themselves first, me second," I said, tilting my head to the side with a sad smile on my face.

I could faintly see disappointment on Carlisle's face, his features still not completely clear. My vision had started to improve quickly, for which I was grateful, but I found myself staring at those around me as I tried to fill in the blanks still present. I had been caught more than once and turned red each time as I turned away.

"The world isn't how it used to be, is it?" Carlisle mumbled, and I shook my head slowly.

"Actually, it's not that different. Way back when, everyone looked out for everyone else for their own survival. People relied on each other so much that to lose one was to hurt them all. It's just changed form now," I said, and Hermes squawked from the open window behind me. I looked towards him and smiled, making him hop down and make his way next to me.

"Hello, my friend," I said. "I haven't seen you in some time." I reached down and he glared up at me, lightly pecking my hand before rubbing his head in my palm.

"I take it he's upset with you," Edward said from my other side. "Where does he go, anyway? He hasn't been around much at all."

"Anywhere he wants, I guess. He just wanders wherever. I haven't been able to figure out how he knows when to come back to me," I answered with a shrug. Hermes jumped up onto the back of the chair next to me and settled himself for the conversation ahead. It was just the four of us and Esme, who was in the kitchen cooking something or other, the others having gone out to spend time alone with their mates and for a last-minute hunt before tomorrow.

"So what exactly happened during your meeting with the wolves?" I asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.

"It was fairly straightforward, actually," Carlisle began, Esme coming in and putting a comforting hand on her husband's shoulder. "I told them the short version of your background and what was going on. The chief over there, Billy Black, appreciated the warning, but told us that their place was as defense for their tribe, not vampires or those involved with vampires. We have only ever been on tolerant terms with each other, so their response didn't come as a surprise. They did want to meet you, though, but I told them of your condition as you had been when I left and they dismissed the idea."

"I heard from Marianne, Bella, and she said the witches are willing to put up spells throughout the forest to help protect us, but they are not willing to join the fight. They wish to protect their own and their homes," Esme said.

"We are telling them of the situation, and we can do no more than that. The humans have a funny saying I heard a while ago: 'You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.' We've led the horse. We need to wait and see what happens next. Each wants to protect their own, and there's no fault in that. I know we'd be more effective together, but to try to force them would only be detrimental," I said, thinking out loud.

"I don't like it," Edward mumbled, and I had to smile.

"Edward, you don't like it because you are protecting your family in you decision. So are they, but it doesn't include yours, so of course you wouldn't." I turned to Carlisle. "Has Alice seen anything different about tomorrow?"

"She's having trouble pinpointing an arrival time for the Volturi, and the people she sees in the group keep changing, but everything is still happening sometime tomorrow."

I activated my rune and sat back in my chair, letting my body relax. When I opened my eyes, I was looking down on a large field. The Cullens and I were standing on one end, facing the other as though we were waiting for something. Only a few minutes later a group of fifteen vampires appeared from between the trees. Their eyes glowed bright red, even from fifty feet up. The two groups started walking towards each other and stopped in the center of the field, a good twenty feet still between them. Carlisle stepped forward, as did the wiry, white-haired vampire from the Volturi's side. As they started speaking, everything went black. I pushed further, trying to see anything from the fight, but all I got was that same battle from before my blindness. I was holding the shield, but one of the Volturi slipped through. He ran in front of me before being taken down, and I fell to my knees. Blackness again. No matter how hard I pushed against it, I couldn't see anything more.

"Something's not right. I see just one group arriving early in the morning, just before sunrise. Why would she be seeing more than one?" I wondered, opening my eyes and looking at Carlisle.

"Do you see their faces? If they hadn't decided who was going straight for us, maybe you are just seeing the number and she is seeing the change in individual fighters," he said, his brow creased in confusion.

"I can see their facial features better than I can see yours now. I was able to see their red eyes from fifty feet up in the air," I said, worry creeping in. My visions never differed this much from Alice's. What was going on?

"We have to be prepared for anything, then. We're flying blind."

*Aro*Aro*

As he looked out upon his army of vampires, Aro couldn't help but smile. Their journey was almost complete, his prize only hours away from his grasp. No one could stop him now. No one was left to try. He had finally done it. He had finally managed to get every species of being on earth under his thumb. Humans, vampires, Lycan, witches, Nephilim, all but that troublesome tribe of werewolves on the west coast were in his control. He made a mental note to give them a friendly visit before he left for Volterra again.

They had trampled every Nephilim school, Lycan pack, nomad vampire, witch coven, and human bar they had passed by. Aro knew they had left some untouched, but he knew the devastation he inflicted on those they did come in contact with would keep the others under control. Besides, he might have use of them someday. The humans had only been used for meals, but he couldn't be bothered to separate them from the supernatural.

Caius was finalizing the plans for tomorrow's attack down to the last step we would take onto the field. Aro couldn't find it in himself to care that his brother had taken over directing their movement. They were too close to mess up now. Marcus was sulking in the corner of the tent, staring down at his lap. Aro felt disappointment in his brother for his lack of joy at their nearly successful mission. He knew Marcus was upset that they would be killing the girl, but Aro had come to the conclusion that she was far too dangerous to keep around. The more she avoided capture, the harder it was to deny. She would be unmatched as an ally, but also as an enemy, and Aro would not accept that.

"Is everyone ready?" Aro asked as Caius approached.

"Everything is set, and everyone knows what they're supposed to do," he said, following his brother's gaze.

"How much do you trust the tag-alongs?" Aro asked, referring to the vampires who begged for their lives when the Volturi swept across the country. He decided to allow them to fight in exchange for their lives, figuring they could kill them during the battle if any showed signs of switching sides or running.

"It doesn't really matter, as long as they fight with us. If they don't, they're dead. Simple as that."

"Simple," Aro mumbled. "If only it were, brother. If only it were."


	49. Chapter 48

_Chapter 48: Bella_

When I woke up the next morning, our room was still dark. The sky was a blank slate from the clouds blocking the stars. The horizon was just starting to lighten as the sun rose behind the cloud cover, fighting to break through. Everything was quiet out there. No birds chirping, bugs peeping, branches swaying in the slight breeze . . . Nothing.

Inside the house was the same. No one was moving. Carlisle wasn't in his office. Esme wasn't in the kitchen. Rose and Emmett weren't in the garage. Jasper wasn't in his books. Alice wasn't at her computer. They were with their mates in their rooms, spending the time before the battle together in quiet companionship. They weren't talking or loving. They were just . . . _being_. Reveling in the presence of each other.

I closed my eyes and sighed, fighting off the images of these people around me dying today, ripped apart and burned before their loved ones as the Volturi stand around with victorious smiles on their faces. Aro had me by the neck as he laughed, watching one of his guard members throw Carlisle's head into a bon fire as I screamed. His grip tightened with every head until he broke my neck when Edward's was added to the flames. My body joined theirs, but I wasn't dead. I felt the burning flames as they licked at my flesh, unable to move to get away. My vision blacked out, but I still felt them. I felt them until my body fell to the ground in a flaming heap. My vision separated from my body, watching from a few feet away as the husk continued to burn away, The Cullens' spirits standing around it and staring down with scowls in their faces.

"This is your fault," they said in unison, their voices light and echoing. "You did this."

I started crying silently, tears marking my cheeks as I shook my head. I wanted to deny it, wanted to somehow pass the blame, but I knew it was true. I gave in. I let them get close. I let them help. I couldn't deny it because it _was_ my fault.

"Bella, what's wrong?" Edward asked, his arms circling my stomach. "Calm down and talk to me."

His voice abruptly ended the movie going on in my head, bringing me back to the Cullens' guest room and Edward laying next to me. I was on my side and he was pressed against my back, holding me to him as he tried to calm me down. I put my hands on his arms and held on tightly as I tried to catch my breath, blinking back more tears. He moved his head so the side was resting on mine, and I sighed softly at the feel of his cool cheek against mine.

"I saw all of you dying. I was thinking about the fight today, and my imagination got away from me," I mumbled, taking one of my hands from his arms and wiping away my leftover tears.

He grabbed my hand and threaded his fingers through mine so the back of my hand was in his palm. Bringing our hands to his face, he lightly pressed his lips to my palm before wrapping our arms around me again.

"Nothing is going to happen to us today, Bella. We've planned for everything, and we'll deal with what happens as it happens. Please don't worry about things you can't do anything about."

"I can't help it, Edward. I've never really had anyone else to worry about. I'm not used to this."

"I know this is all new to you," he said, running his thumb against my skin, "but you still shouldn't think about the worst-case scenario when you don't know it'll happen. You don't need the added stress on yourself going into this, Bella." I turned my head so I could look at him over my shoulder, and he sat up a little to give me room.

"This was supposed to be just me. Even that prophecy said so. I don't know what's going to happen with all of you involved, as well. I can only think the worst will happen."

"If I remember what Carlisle told me about that prophecy, it said one would save the races from destruction, but she would need to find those who would save her first," he said with a small smile, trying to lighten my mood. I tried to give him a smile in return, but I just couldn't do it.

"We need to focus on the task at hand, not what could happen afterward. Okay?" he asked, and I sighed, bringing our hands up in front of my face. I turned my hand in his so our palms were facing each other and pressed my lips to the back of his hand for a moment. I pulled away and he was staring down at me, his gaze slowly moving from his hand to my eyes and then to my mouth over and over again.

"Okay," I whispered, and before either of us could say anything more, Alice's voice rang out from her room.

"Get ready, everyone. It's time to go."

Edward and I looked at each other for another moment before I took my hand from his and got up from the bed. I didn't hear him moving behind me, and when I looked, he was in the same position I had left him in. From the heated look in his eyes, I could tell his thoughts were not completely innocent anymore.

"Everyone comes back from this, Edward," I said.

I walked into the closet and grabbing a random pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I pulled a bra and panties from a drawer and nudged the door closed. It didn't click shut. Edward's audible inhale told me he saw what I was holding, and I smiled. I dressed quickly, not wanting Alice to come up and barge in, and Edward was laying face-down on the bed when I walked back out of the closet. I walked up next to him and placed my hand flat on his back, right between his shoulder blades. Even through his shirt, I could feel a hum of energy passing back and forth between us.

"It's safe to look now, Edward," I said, unable to keep a smile off my face. He groaned and I shook my head as he ran to the closet and changed in a few seconds. He was back next to me and glaring before I could blink.

"Let's go," he mumbled, averting his eyes from my face.

I took his hand and we walked downstairs to join the others, who were all standing at the front door. We stood in a large circle, each of us taking in the faces of the others, just in case. It only lasted for a few moments before all of us turned to the front door and filed out in complete silence. Edward scooped me up onto his back and the Cullens ran to the field in a matter of minutes with me clinging to Edward by his neck.

"Remember, not until after we've talked," Edward mumbled. I nodded against the side of his face, our cheeks rubbing with the movement.

He was referring to the plan of keeping my shield a secret unless the Volturi decided to attack. We didn't want to instigate with me protecting everyone if there were any possible way of avoiding a fight. I told them Aro probably knew about my power already, but maybe not exactly what I'm able to do with it, so this was the only plan we could come up with.

We broke through the tree line and out into the field, stopping just where I saw us lined up. I situated myself in the middle, with Edward on my left and Carlisle on my right. Alice and Jasper were on Edward's other side, and Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett were on Carlisle's. I took Edward's hand and threaded my fingers through his, counting down the seconds before the Volturi's group would burst through the trees.

_Twenty . . . Nineteen . . . Eighteen . . . Seventeen . . ._

With every number, my grip tightened on Edward's hand. He seemed to understand my reaction and raised the back of my hand to his lips, kissing it softly before putting our hands back at our sides. I didn't look at him in response, but I did give him a small smile as I stared at the trees in the distance. It quickly disappeared as the trees swayed a little and the Volturi burst from them, slowing to a walk as they approached our line from across the field.

The three brothers were in the lead, all with expressions varying from boredom to anxiousness to excitement, and following them was a group of ten vampires, basically stoic as they stood slightly behind the three. I focused on Aro, waiting for him to make the first move.

"Carlisle, my old friend, it is so nice to see you again," he gushed, spreading his arms out to his sides in welcome.

"Maybe under different circumstances, Aro, but we both know this is more than a friendly visit," Carlisle said, trying very hard to keep his voice neutral.

"Yes, I suppose different circumstances would make this trip more enjoyable, but that is not the case. We are here for Miss Isabella Swan and her alone," he said, looking straight at me. "No one else needs to be involved in this, Carlisle. Let us take her, and your coven will remain unharmed."

"I cannot allow that, Aro. If she were willing to go, then I would not interfere, but that is not the case. I will not force her to go with you, nor will I let you take her. She is a part of my family, Aro, and I will defend her as one of my own. She is doing no harm to you. Why can't you just leave her be?" Carlisle said, his arm brushing mine in reassurance as he spoke. I felt a presence brushing against my conscience and had to fight the reflex to throw up a shield. I followed the power back to its source and found the mind of a young child. The tenor of the mind told me Jane was getting ready to attack, and I mentally grabbed a hold of my shield.

"What is your plan if I do give in, Aro?" I asked out of curiosity. I squeezed Edward's hand when he tensed, trying to silently tell him to trust me.

"My dear, we would bring you back to Volterra with us. You would be treated like a _queen_, Isabella. Powers like yours have never been and will never be again. You are a true gem, a crown jewel, if you will. If you were to join us, you would want for nothing. I can assure you of that," Aro said, giving me what was supposed to be an inviting, reassuring smile.

I just gave him a blank stare, slipping into a vision if I decided to go with Aro and his guard. As I expected, I'd only make it over the state line with them if I went. I wasn't going to do it, even before I saw the vision, but it showed me exactly what I had expected all along. I blinked and the vision disappeared, bringing the Volturi's confused faces back into view.

"You lie, Aro. You see me as a threat too large to keep alive. I will die as soon as we cross the state line if I go with you, just as I thought," I said, looking Aro right in the eyes. The brilliant red made me nervous, but I didn't waver.

"You don't know that," he started, but I stopped him with a wave of my hand in front of me.

"But I do, Aro. I saw it. What I see is not conditional like Alice's. If I go with you, I will die." I pointed at my temple and tilted my head, waiting for whatever he was going to say next.

"Why put the Cullens in danger if you know you will not survive, then? Why cause all of your deaths when it could just be you?" he said, not denying it anymore.

"They _want_ to fight with me, Aro. I am not forcing them. I tried to convince them to stay out of this for a century, and they just won't listen," I said, jutting my thumb at Carlisle. "I will fight for my life. If they want to join me, I can't stop them."

"Fine. All of you will die today, then. Such a waste of power in you three, but so be it," he said curtly, looking at Edward, Alice, and Jasper to my left. He beckoned behind him to Jane and Alec, both of whom were busy probing our minds in preparation for attack. I grabbed my shield like a blanket, setting the edge right in front of us so I could pull it up and over the group in an instant.

"I have need of you, my children. Incapacitate them all and destroy her. I think we will leave the others to live the rest of their lives with the pain of losing their creator. I can't think of a better, longer-lasting punishment for traitors of their own kind. Alec, just make sure they watch her die," he said and they smiled.

Just as their powers came at us, I threw up my shield, physically using my arms to control the motion. I grabbed towards the ground and moved my arms up over my head, tossing my shield to the ground a few feet behind us. Their powers battered at my shield, but they weren't really trying yet. Like we thought, they weren't prepared for exactly what I could do with my shield. I watched the gently flowing shield surrounding us ripple in the places Jane and Alec ran into it, making it look like the water's surface when a stone is tossed in. It wasn't weakened at all, but it did disturb the natural flow of power as it slowly swirled around us.

Jane growled in frustration and increased her attacks, focusing them on me as I gave her a small smile, but nothing worked. Finally, she decided to charge me and I pushed my shield out at her and Alec, sending them flying back into the rest of the guard. I made note of the fact that no one went out of their way to catch them, instead splitting so they hit the ground. When I glanced at Edward, his furrowed brows told me he saw it, too. I didn't know what we'd do with that information, but we'd figure something out.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this fight, Aro?" I asked, tilting my head. I could tell it freaked him out, what with my eyes glowing white as my shield rune drew and redrew itself on my eyes and the small smile on my face. His response?

"Kill them!"


	50. Chapter 49

_Chapter 49: Bella_

"Kill them," Aro said as Jane and Alec stood up, and the group of vampires behind him charged forward.

They spread out, trying to separate our group, but my shield kept any of the Cullens from moving even if they wanted to. Edward's face was tense with focus. The rest of the Cullens had the same look except Emmett, who had coupled his focus on the battle with excitement. I just rolled my eyes and took in the ring of enemy vampires around us. One darted forward at Esme and slammed into my shield, landing on his rear with a surprised look on his face. I glared at him and he backed away, not even bothering to get up first.

"I'll let a few in at a time and push the others back," I said calmly, trying to keep the vamps unfocused with the continuously moving rune on my eyes as I looked at each of them. "Once you defeat them, you know what'll happen. Don't let it distract you. I'll let more in as we defeat them." I left off the "until I have trouble keeping me shield solid" part. We all knew it, and voicing it wouldn't help us at all.

I was ready to drop my shield for our next attacker, but none came forward. The Cullens were evenly spread out around me, and I sensed Hermes off in the distance, waiting for me to call him. He had agreed to ignite the bodies for us once they were ripped apart, but I wanted him to stay as far away from the fighting as possible. Snatching him from the sky while I was distracted wouldn't be that hard.

"I said kill them!" Aro roared, and some of the vampires flinched. "Kill them, or we will kill you!"

I glanced at Edward and then Carlisle, both of them giving me the same uncomfortable, helpless look I was giving them. These vampires were those the Volturi had bargained with: their service for their lives. They didn't want to fight, but they didn't want to die. We knew what we had to do, though, and as the first tried charging my shield again, we resigned ourselves to the task of killing victims instead of enemies.

Edward got the first attacker as she threw her fist towards his chest, grabbing her hand and using her momentum to sling her, ripping her arm off with the force of his throw. She cried out, but it was drowned out by more screeching vampire flesh, grunts of effort, and moans of pain. I closed my eyes to the sights, using my shield to locate those with powers trying to break through. Only Jane and Alec seemed to be gifted, which boded well for us, but then I realized someone was missing, someone I expected to be here and fighting.

"Demetri isn't here," I whispered as softly as I could, opening my eyes and watching the brothers' faces. They didn't hear me, if the smiles on their faces as they watched their numbers dwindle meant anything.

Alice's visions finally made sense. She wasn't seeing different groups arriving with the brothers. She was seeing _waves_ of vampires.

"Guys, the groups they had moving across the country never came back together. They're still separate, and they're attacking in waves. That's why Alice was seeing different groups. It wasn't possible participants, but the different groups they'll be sending in at us," I whispered, trying to keep the brothers from realizing I knew their plan.

"Hermes!" Edward yelled, and I turned to see him tossing the parts of his opponent into a pile. Carlisle, Emmett, and Jasper did the same, making quick work of them. The girls were being a little less aggressive, attacking only when attacked, and their mates destroyed the vamps as soon as they saw it.

Hermes screeched is arrival overhead, and I put a partial shield around him to stop any potential attacks. He flapped his wings hard, bringing the tips down under his belly so they touched, and a fireball fell directly onto the body pile as I opened the top of the shield. It erupted into violent, bright yellow flames and he flew off, dropping more to disorient the remaining vampire. He caught fire, trying to avoid one ball and running right under another. He threw himself to the ground, rolling around and screaming until his body fell apart, a pile of ash left behind.

I turned back to the Volturi, tilting my head as I awaited the next group. I was sick with guilt over what was happening, but nothing I did would stop it now. As soon as they said yes to Aro, they signed their death warrant, be it by our hands or the Guard's. At least with us, their deaths would be quick.

"Very nice, Isabella Swan, and exactly why I cannot allow you to live. So much power in one being," Aro mused, his face turning thoughtful. I could only imagine what was going on in that sick mind, and from Edward's growls, I didn't even want to do that.

"What's next, Aro?" I asked calmly, blinking slowly. "You've been after me for five centuries. I know this isn't all you have planned."

"You would be correct, old friend, but I cannot just _tell_ you! Where is the fun in that?" Aro said, throwing his hands out to his sides.

"You are _not_ my friend, Aro," I snarled, letting my eyes flash and slamming my shield down on the ground. The resulting shockwave put a look of surprise and fear on his face, but he quickly wiped it away. The tension in his shoulders told me the fear was still there, though, and that was all I wanted.

"Can Hermes drop fire on them like with that other vamp?" Edward asked in my ear, standing right behind me with his body pressed to mine to disguise our conversation. I shook my head slightly, making it look more like a twitch.

"You really think they'd let that happen?" I whispered, leaning my head back against his shoulder so my mouth was by his ear. He put his hand on my hip, his eyes focused on the group in front of us.

"No, but I kind of wish they would." We stayed like that for a moment more, me completely ignoring them as I looked for all the world like I was kissing Edward's neck. He smiled, the curl of his lips barely brushing against my jaw and making me shiver. "They're getting pissed."

I lifted my head, letting the side of my face rub against Edward's as I stood straight again. His lips brushed my cheek and I smiled, flinching as Jane attacked my shield with her power. I stared her down, her glare strong enough to kill, and smiled. Edward left his head propped on my shoulder, and I put my hand on the side of his face. Alec joined in her assault, but I was more prepared for it.

"We're getting bored, Aro. This isn't much of a battle from the great and powerful Volturi Guard," I called, ignoring the pesky ache that started at the base of my skull with the force of their attacks. Edward's grip on my hip tightened for a moment, silently asking if I was okay, and I ran my thumb along his jaw line as a "yes."

"We need to end this as quickly as possible. I wasn't prepared for waves of attacks, and I don't know how long I can keep this shield up if Jane and Alec keep attacking me," I whispered, turning my head towards him again and quickly turning back when I finished. I was about to speak again when another group of vampires rushed from the forest, charging right for us without stopping.

Demetri led this group, but he stopped right behind Aro as the nine others surrounded us. I let seven in, leaving two to slam into my shield. They flew back and looked up in confusion after they hit the ground. Edward ran off to his next battle, and I could immediately tell these vampires were much more willing to fight us than the others were.

Esme, Alice, and Rosalie were swapping opponents, attacking when one wasn't paying attention and using the surprise to remove a limb. Alice faced off with one, and Rose grabbed his leg, ripping it off at the knee while Esme charged the female that tried to go after Rose. The male's leg was added to the burning pile, and the female's arm quickly joined it as Alice leapt over and ripped it from her body. They were a little less forward in their attacks than the guys, who charged their opponents head on.

Emmett grabbed a male vamp by his waist and slammed him face-down into the ground, putting his foot on the vamp's back and taking his head. Jasper was feinting around his opponent, eventually slashing him across the neck and instantly decapitating him. Everyone had minor injuries, ranging from healing scratches to missing flesh, but all limbs were still mostly intact.

As I turned toward Edward's fight, I noticed twenty more vampires emerging from the forest. They immediately surrounded us and pounded on my shield as Jane and Alec continued to do the same with their powers. I felt every hit as a sharp pain in my head, and I couldn't keep from showing it.

"What's wrong, Isabella? It looks like you are in pain!" Aro called, his voice mocking. "How much longer can you keep that barrier up, you little mutt? You _will_ break eventually, and we'll be ready."

He was right. The pain was quickly getting stronger with so many attacking at once. Twenty-two physical bodies and two powers at the same time . . . way more than I was prepared for. I could feel my shield cracking even as I continued to pour power into it, the inside of my nose becoming moist as I started hemorrhaging. Reshaping my shield as a moving cloud, I tried to lessen the amount of power I was releasing. It was backfiring, though, as more vampires managed to find holes and come through. I was still able to keep Jane and Alec at bay, but I was doing too many things at once.

I watched a vampire dash to the hole in front of me, and I dropped my shield down on her just as she came under it. She fell to the ground in two pieces, and I looked for the next as a drop of blood rolled out of my nose. I dropped it in two more places and got the same result, calling to Hermes to ignite the bodies before they started reattaching. My mind couldn't keep track of how many vampires were under the shield or how many were stuck outside, so I kept spinning and using my shield as a guillotine whenever I had the chance. The trickle of blood from my nose became a steady flow, dripping onto my shirt and leaving a cold spot on my chest.

My heart was beating fast and my breaths were short from strain, but I kept going. I struck down four more before black spots started creeping into my vision. A male vamp came at me and I grabbed a piece of my shield from above, crushing him into the ground. Hermes squawked and a fireball fell right in front of me and onto his flattened form. I backed up and turned around, surveying the scene before another vampire rushed me.

"Nice to see you again, little half-witch," Demetri growled, crouching in front of me. "I shouldn't be fighting just yet, but your blood . . . it's more than I can resist, Isabella Swan. I can't let anyone else have it."

I didn't respond, instead mimicking his stance and watching his every move. I felt the fire's heat increasing behind me and started moving to the side, trying to get him to circle with me. My solution to Demetri was simple, but only if I could get him to cooperate without knowing he was doing so.

When I stopped moving, he continued, inching his way closer to me. His pitch black eyes were focused on my face and the scarlet dripping down my face, which was lucky for me. I took a step away from him and he took one towards me, putting him right in front of the fire. I took a section of my shield and pushed him into the fire, his screams echoing from the blaze. He was still alive, so I took my shield again and decapitated him.

My vision was spotty now, and they wouldn't go away no matter how much I blinked. As I looked around, I saw the last of the vampires dying at the hands of the Cullens. The Volturi brothers and the child-vampires were still standing towards the edge of the battlefield, and I focused on them. I didn't have a whole lot of energy left, and I had to use it to get rid of them, no matter what. As soon as my shield dropped, Alec and Jane would guarantee the Cullens' deaths.

"_Bella_!" Edward yelled.

Before I could turn around, someone darted in front of me from the side, slamming into my ribs and slashing my abdomen as they continued running. I didn't even have time to react before they were shredded as Edward roared his anger.

I fell to my knees, my hands touching my wounds. Nothing hurt, surprisingly, but I knew I was injured. I could feel it. All of my ribs on my left side were broken, that much I knew for sure. The slices from the vampire's fingers didn't feel that deep, but I wasn't moving. I didn't want to.

My shirt was wet with blood, but I couldn't worry about me yet. My shield was wavering, and I needed to finish them off before I lost consciousness. I couldn't focus, though, between the pounding in my head, my fading vision, and the loss of blood. Every time I tried to grab my shield, it slipped out of my grip. I tried again and again, feeling the flow of blood from my nose increase. It slowly started coming out of my ears and down my jaw, but I didn't stop.

"The great and powerful Isabella Swan does not look well," Aro said as the fighting calmed around me. I stopped my attempts as he spoke, leaving my shield as a wall between us and them.

"You are killing yourself now, Isabella. Just give up and we'll end this now. No more blood will be spilled on this day but yours and the traitors'."

"No," I ground out, my teeth clenched as I tried not to pass out. Edward knelt down next to me with his shirt in his hands, moving mine so he could put his shirt under them. He moved behind me and pressed on my hands, trying to stop the bleeding from my abdomen and giving me something to lean back on.

"You will die either way, my dear. You have not defeated all of my forces just yet, and you do not look like you are able to fight anymore. End this now before we cause more pain," he said, trying to be soothing, but the gleam in his eye and smile on his face showed his true intentions.

"Just me," I gasped. The pain was catching up with me with every ragged breath I took, and I started shaking from it.

"Something's happening," Edward growled in my ear. "Don't give in just yet."

"I cannot agree to your terms, Isabella. Your dear Cullens have gone against our authority. The consequence for that is death. For me to let them go without punishment would be to show weakness, and that is something I cannot do. I need to make an example of them, and I will, with or without your cooperation."

I didn't respond again and he sighed, gesturing behind him with a raise of his hand. A group of ten fully changed Lycan stepped from the woods, all hunched over and hairy. They basically looked like humans with arms and legs that were a little too long and a hunched back that went as high as the base of their skulls. Their entire bodies were covered in thick fur, and their faces were slightly drawn out like a wolf's snout. Their eyes blazed yellow, not gold like the Cullens', and their teeth were canine in shape. They'd look just like the Quileutes if they weren't so human.

"No," I whispered, my breaths rapid and shallow. Edward pressed his shirt harder against me, smelling the flow of blood increase.

"I gave you a chance, Isabella, and I'll ask one last time. Will you give in?" Aro asked, his group of Lycan standing in a line right behind them. Just when I was about to say yes, a roar from behind us rang out.

I couldn't turn around, and I had no idea what was going on anymore. My head was swimming from blood loss as I continued to keep what was left of my shield up, and the pressure Edward was putting on my gashes was hurting my broken ribs. The black dots crept in, blacking out everything as Edward called my name. Growls and snarled echoed around me, accompanied by the wrenching of flesh. Whimpers and cries of pain broke through the fighting, but I had no idea who was hurt. Well, besides me.

I felt like a fountain with a deep crack in it. Blood was flowing steadily from my nose, ears, and stomach, and my head felt like someone was ripping it in two. The latter was the only reason I knew my shield was still up, the only way I knew those cries of pain weren't from Jane and Alec. Their attacks told me exactly where the two of them were, exactly where the _five_ of them were.

"Stupid idea, Bella," I thought. "Good way to kill yourself a little faster."

I let my body slump against Edward's and slowed down my breathing and heartbeat. I heard him start panicking, but I blocked off everything but the feeling of my shield. I followed the twins' attacks back to them and threw all the power I had left into wrapping my shield around them. They didn't even notice the difference as they watched whatever carnage was happening in front of them.

"He- Herm-," I gasped, but I couldn't get his name out. I felt his presence, though, as his mind touched mine. I opened the top of the bubble I made around the Volturi and closed it back up when I felt the heat of his fire within the walls. I kept it strong, as strong as I could, until their screams finally stopped and the field fell silent, and my mind collapsed with them.


	51. Chapter 50

_Chapter 50: Edward_

The Volturi went up in a ball of flame in front of us, effectively stopping all of the battles going on around us. I saw Hermes fly off and I moved behind Bella, knowing something had happened between the two of them while I was trying to keep track of my family. She was exhausted, and I knew whatever she just did was way more than she should've done. It only took a moment for her to prove me right.

Bella slumped back against me, her chin on her chest, and she didn't move. I kept one hand on my shirt and lifted her face with the other, trying to see exactly what was going on. I knew she was unconscious, but as soon as I saw all the blood coming from her nose and ears, I panicked.

"_Carlisle_!" I roared, unable to take my eyes off her face. I had known that she was bleeding before he was attacked, but I didn't realize it was so bad. Her face looked as though her brain had hemorrhaged, and she was still bleeding.

"Lay her down, Edward, but don't take the pressure off her wounds," Carlisle said, appearing beside me and automatically slipping into doctor mode.

I did as he asked as Carlisle examined her, listening to her heart, breathing, and looking at her pupils. I did it along with him, trying to keep myself busy as I held Bella's hand in mine, but I had to let go as I slowly tightened my grip. Her heart was vibrating more than actually beating, her breathing was very slow and shallow, and her eyes didn't respond to the sunlight when he lifted her eyelids.

"She's barely hanging in there," Carlisle mumbled.

I put my hand in my hair so I didn't grab hers again. I was putting a little too much pressure on her broken ribs as it was. I didn't need to break her hand, too. Esme put her hand over mine and I eased up a little, letting her thread her fingers through mine so I had something to hold onto without hurting Bella.

"We need to get her to the hospital, Edward. She needs stitching, and I'll have to do an MRI on her to see what kind of damage she caused to her brain," Carlisle said, watching me for a reaction. I just continued to stare down at her in disbelief until her heart stuttered.

"Edward, take her to the car so we can go," he repeated.

Hermes cried from overhead and landed next to me, cooing softly as he looked at Bella's face. When she didn't move, he cooed again and touched his beak to her cheek. His wings slumped slightly as he tried once more to get her attention. His body flared up slightly and he rubbed his face against hers, his coo turning into a whine.

"She has done more damage than we can see, hasn't she?" Carlisle asked the phoenix, and Hermes lowered his head slightly in a nod. The firebird looked at me, and I suddenly realized how much his color had faded around his face. His head was almost completely white with age.

"Will you help her?" I asked, and he slowly turned his head back to Bella, tilting it in what looked like thought.

He moved himself as close as he could to Bella's face and stretched his neck so his face was directly over hers. He closed his eyes and turned his head so the right side of his face was facing Bella, right over her mouth. I watched in awe as a small tear grew between his eyelids and dropped down onto her closed lips. It started glowing as soon as it touched her skin, slowly seeping into her mouth as she barely breathed. It still glowed as it traveled down her throat, the light visible through her body. It pooled in her stomach, right under the deep scratches from the guardsman.

I kept my shirt over the wound even as the light passed right through it and only took my hand away when it faded. When I finally lifted it from her body, all I found was a large, dark bloodstain and perfect skin marred only with the thin white lines of past Nephilim runes. I put my hand lightly on her skin, the blood making it sticky, and moved it to her side to find that her ribs were healed, as well. Looking at her face, I noticed that the bleeding from her nose and ears had also stopped, but she was still barely breathing and her heartbeat was erratic. It was still fast, but it was skipping beats.

Hermes backed away from her and keened his sadness, stretching his wings out to their full length and lifting them above his head. He looked at me for a moment, a look full of confidence and thanks, before his body erupted into a pillar of white-hot flame. I could see him lifting his head as he burned, giving one last cry before his form collapsed into a pile of ash. As soon as it settled, Bella's heartbeat steadied, even if it was still too fast. All of us were quiet for a moment until Esme stood and scooped Hermes's ashes into her hands.

"What happens now?" Rosalie asked.

"We take Bella back to the house and make her comfortable until we know exactly what Hermes did. We take his ashes back and give him a place in our home until Bella wakes. If he isn't reborn, she can decide what to do with his ashes. If he is, then we will welcome him just as we did her," Carlisle explained, and no one argued.

I lifted Bella in my arms while Esme cradled Hermes's ashes, cupping her hands so none of them blew away. A snort behind us caused all of us to turn and look at the werewolf pack standing behind us. Only two were changed, two young men whose names I pulled from the wolves' minds. Jacob Black had the tanned skin and jet black hair of the Quileute tribe, and the set of his shoulders showed his rank in the pack. The man standing next to him had the same stance, and the suppressed tension between them was palpable. Apparently Sam was currently the alpha, but Jacob was the alpha by birth. They were trying to command the pack together, but the pack mind told me it was rough for the both of them.

"What's going to happen to her?" Jacob asked, his eyes on Bella.

"We'll take her back to our home and monitor her. Hermes's tear should have healed everything, but we don't really know the extent of the injuries she had," Carlisle explained. He ran his hand through his hair with a sigh, something he picked up from me.

"I'm sorry you had to meet her this way, but I can't say I'm unhappy that you came. The reason doesn't matter, but please know that we thank you for your help. Is everyone on your side alright?"

"We will be in time," Sam said with a nod. "None were hurt too badly, and we heal fast. Worry about her so that we may meet her properly, Cullen. She's caught the interest of the tribe only with what you've told us about her. They want to discuss a partnership with her, but they haven't told me what. Us helping you today and everything Carlisle said yesterday were part of it, though."

"We will notify you with any updates on her condition. In the meantime, we need to get her back to the house and check in with the Nephilim school-"

"Wiped out," Jacob said, cutting Carlisle off. "The Volturi destroyed it and whoever didn't run away. Quite a few did once the building fell. I counted five when we went over there. We were too late to help, so we looped around downwind of the group. That's why it took so long. Once we caught up to them, we saw the different groups and decided to wait and surprise them. We did that, but . . ." He looked down at Bella again, the end of his sentence unnecessary. What price did we pay for our victory?


	52. Chapter 51

_Chapter 51: Edward_

Bella hadn't moved since I put her on the bed in the guest room four hours ago. I was pacing the living room as Carlisle checked her over, trying to make sure Hermes had healed all of her injuries, and I was anxious to be at her side again. Esme watched from the couch, trying to calm me with her thoughts. It wasn't working.

"Edward, you're going to wear a rut into my floor if you don't calm down. You know Carlisle would tell you as soon as he found out something, and I have no doubt that you're watching his thoughts. Please sit and talk to me, dear," she said, patting the couch cushion next to her.

"I can't sit. I can't stop. I don't know why, but I can't stop thinking about her, seeing her bloody face in my head every time I try to take a breath. The feeling of needing to take care of her was strong before the battle, but now that she's hurt, it's . . . it's so much stronger." I managed to stop and look down at my hands as I tried to put my feelings into words.

"I've never felt anything like this before, Esme. I don't feel right when I'm not next to her, and I get anxious when I can't see her. I just felt funny before. It was easier to ignore it and obey her wishes, but the anxiety just keeps getting stronger. Her attack . . . I felt her pain when that vampire got her. I felt her energy leave her body as I held her while the Volturi burned. She was in my arms, but she weighed nothing. Even after she stopped and fell unconscious, I had to look down to make sure I was actually holding her."

"Remember when she decided to stay here? You were also much happier, happier than we've ever seen you. You _care_ now, Edward, and not just about us. She has become the center of your world, your thoughts, and your actions. Everything you do is for or about her," she said. She just sat there after that, not elaborating on what she said. I ran back through everything and couldn't help but agree. I was happier. I did care. She was my center-

"She's my mate?" I whispered in disbelief.

"You tell me, dear. Look deep inside. Have you changed?"

That answer was fairly obvious. Before Bella, I never really cared about what was going on in the world around me unless it concerned the family. Humans couldn't hold my interest, no matter what they did or said. Oh, the girls tried. Even female vampires tried, but no one really piqued my interest.

As soon as Bella came, all that changed. I _attached_ myself to Bella, even as she tried to push me away. I wanted to make her happy, do as she wanted me to, say what she needed to hear. I _wanted_ to be involved in everything she did, and I cared about what happened to her. Seeing her hurt like she was now was causing me both physical and mental pain, something I hadn't felt in a very long time.

"Yes," I finally said, and she smiled.

"Yes, what?" she pressed.

"She's . . . she's my mate," I said, stumbling over the word.

"She's your mate, Edward," Esme repeated, her smile growing.

Carlisle came into the living room before I came out of my stupor. He wasn't happy, but he didn't look upset either. I immediately sobered up when I saw him, running half way to Bella's room before I was able to stop myself and talk to Carlisle. I didn't even get a word out before he told me what he saw. Nothing.

"Her condition hasn't changed, Edward. It is good because she hasn't gotten worse, but it isn't because she hasn't gotten better. She is stable. Her heart beat is still too slow, but they are strong. Her breaths are shallow, but they are consistent. After everything that's happened, I can't ask for more than that from her so soon," he explained, and my chest constricted.

"What can we do?" I pleaded, and he sighed.

"We can't do anything, Edward. I will try to make contact with Marianne and Joshua, see if they have any ideas, but for now, all of this is up to her."

I turned from him and ran to Bella's side, dropping to my knees at the side of her bed and taking her hand in both of mine. I pressed the back of her hand to my lips and squeezed my eyes shut as my anxiety seemed to melt from my body at her proximity. Her heartbeat, as slow as it was, was soothing because it told me that she was still here. She hadn't left me yet.

Words left me as I tried to speak to her, tried to convince her to fight and improve so she would wake up again. My mind was completely blank of everything but her face on the bed and how she looked in my arms only hours before. I was trying to convince myself that she had already improved, but Esme cleaning the blood from her body wasn't enough to prove that. I knew that, but it didn't stop me. I needed something to cling to, some shred of hope after feeling the life fall from Bella's body while she tried to save us all on her own. I felt like I was going to lose her right then, but she held on. I needed to think she was still fighting to come back, even if it wasn't back to me.

"You need to come back to us, Bella. We just became a family. We can't lose you now. _I_ can't lose you now. Esme helped me realize just how much you've helped and changed me, something that couldn't have happened unless you're my mate. You _are_ my mate, Bella, and I can't lose you. I know I won't survive it," I whispered against her hand, mumbling my thoughts as I finally became coherent.

"I got to know you as the reason Carlisle changed me. Neither of you knew why, but maybe we do now. Maybe I needed to live on to help you trust people. You told me yourself that I've gotten closer to you than anyone else. Maybe I needed to survive to help you _accept help_. Would you have let Carlisle and the others help you fight had I not been here? Would you have let them help you at all? I feel arrogant just saying it, but what if it's true. We'll never know, but now that everything is over, maybe we can guess. Carlisle needed to survive to help you make a family you wouldn't lose. Esme needed to survive to give Carlisle a reason to make a family and not just a coven. I could go on, but I don't want to do this by myself. I want to think about this with you." My emotions were fried, and listening to myself ramble on and on about our reasons for existing as vampires only made it more obvious. I looked on her bedside table to see a small ceramic dish holding Hermes's ashes, staring at them for a moment.

"Surely you wouldn't have sacrificed yourself as you did if you knew she was going to die," I thought. I didn't know anything for sure, so I settled for resting my head on the side of Bella's bed, watching for the rise and fall of her chest that would tell me I hadn't yet lost the reason I existed.

*E*E*

Several hours passed before Carlisle came into Bella's room again. I didn't turn to look at him, but I heard his thoughts tell me he was coming to talk about what Marianne and Joshua had to say. He shut the door behind him and went to the other side of Bella's bed, listening to her vitals before he spoke.

"All but a small few of the Nephilim in Seattle were killed, and those who are still alive will not be for much longer. Marianne and Joshua will be the only survivors, although they are injured. Most of the children from that school are now—or will soon be—orphans. Esme is arranging housing for all of them, roughly twenty children and three adults. Their school was brought to the ground by Aro and his army. They should be arriving around midday tomorrow," Carlisle explained, continuing when I didn't offer a response. "Marianne and Joshua will be here within the hour to see Bella. They have an idea, but they didn't elaborate."

I just nodded to show him I heard and he walked out, leaving me with Bella. I knew I should care about what happened to Bella's people. I felt like I should just because they were hurt trying to help us, but I was too focused on what Marianne and Joshua could possibly do to help Bella. If they had fought like we had to, they shouldn't have any energy left, either. Not yet, at least, and Bella had nothing for them to use to help her.

Resigning myself to the hour-long wait, I laid my head down on the bed and took her hand in mine, pressing it against the side of my face as I tried to make myself believe she was just sleeping. She wasn't unconscious. She wasn't balancing between life and death. Just sleeping.

I focused on the thrum I felt whenever I was close to her, letting it lull me as close to sleep as I could get, and the hour passed in a flash. Before I knew it, Esme was standing behind me with her hand on my shoulder and Carlisle was standing on the other side of the bed again. When I lifted my head, I saw Marianne and Joshua standing at the foot of the bed with their eyes on Bella's face. They looked . . . defeated. Shoulders slumped, faces sad, minds almost empty . . . they had taken a big hit, and seeing Bella like this wasn't helping them.

"She's no better than she was when we brought her here. She's stable, but she's still in danger. Her breathing and heart rate are too slow," Carlisle explained to them, and I looked at Bella. Her brows were scrunched together a little, like she was uncomfortable, and she was very pale. Marianne came around the bed and placed her hand on Bella's forehead, making me give a low growl. Esme's hand tightened on my shoulder.

"It's okay, Edward. Remember, she's here to help, dear," she said, kneeling next to me and resting her head against mine.

"I see Bella is your mate, huh?" Marianne asked, her voice strained with exhaustion. "It's about time you realized that." Before I could respond, she turned towards Carlisle slightly.

"She is shattered, Carlisle. Hermes fixed her body, but what makes Isabella Swan who she is is broken. Her soul. Something like that isn't fixed easily, if at all."

"How?" I asked, not elaborating.

"I can tell what we need to do, but some parts might not be easy. Bella is made of four different elements: Nephilim, Witch, Lycan, and you," she said, looking at me. My brows furrowed in confusion and she smiled.

"She is the mate of a vampire. Mates of vampires are affected by that bond just as the vampire is. You are permanently changed by your mate, and it's the same for them. As her mate, you are a part of her, just as much as the different elements of her heritage."

"What do I have to do?"

"You will be the one to bring all of the other elements together. A Nephilim rune written with a stele influenced by a witch's spell using the hair of a Lycan with you being the one to write it on her skin. Easiest, but still difficult," she warned, and I stared at Bella's face.

"So be it."


	53. Chapter 52

_Chapter 52: Bella_

I could still feel the heat of Hermes's flames as I blacked out, and I felt a thrum of pain when he died. My mind was numb with pain and exhaustion as my body fought to keep itself alive, but I managed to feel sadness over the loss of my best friend. I didn't know why he died, but I couldn't keep my thoughts in line long enough to think of possibilities.

I had no sense of time. What seemed to be shortly after Hermes's death, my mind was freed from pain, but I was still beyond the point of exhaustion. All I could hear was the irregular, weak beating of my heart and intake of breaths. I was barely breathing . . . my heart barely beating. Someone was holding me tightly, moving me around. No matter how hard I tried to focus on that person, the further away they seemed. I could feel pressure, but not temperature or texture. I had no idea who it was or where we were. I just was.

I could tell when my body was being moved. Instead of just floating, I floated with a purpose. This happened sometime after the pressure of the person holding me increased a little, just below the point of pain. I wanted to warn them, tell them their grip was too tight, but nothing responded. My body wasn't mine.

Free-floating again, I really lost track of time as I let my mind wander. I felt nothing, thought nothing, saw nothing. My senses were completely useless until a thin white mist slowly got thicker around me, drifting like clouds. It was the first thing I had seen since I blacked out, and it grew into a place I hadn't been to in a very long time.

The trees were green and the grass was a little high. No one had cut it in a few days, but it wasn't too high just yet. The cabins were all neat and tidy from the outside. One to the left had a rocking chair sitting outside on the porch, the wood creaking slightly as to slowly moved to and fro with the gentle breeze. Another right next door had a swing tied to a tree, hanging completely still as though the wind wasn't touching it at all. I looked up to see the clouds frozen in their paths. The sun was caught half-way behind one, creating a shadow over the right side of the road even as it lit the left.

I started walking forward along the shadow line, unable to move from it even as I tried to go towards the house on the left. I wanted to look in the window, see if anyone was in there, but my body refused to leave that line. As I walked in front of the house with the walking chair, a small cross glittered as it hung in the shade of the porch's roof. I stopped, wondering at how that was possible, when I recognized the small memento. My grandmother had worn it until she died, and my father had hung it on our front door as a good luck charm. Rosary beads should have been hanging on the coat hook just inside the front door, along with another cross above the stove in the kitchen to the right as you walked in. The rocking chair was also my grandmother's—Dolores's—and a rune for longevity was carved into the back of it.

My childhood home looked exactly as it had before the Lycans attacked and destroyed our village. My mother's flowerbed was in full bloom, the blossoms' colors bright and healthy. The windows weren't smashed in, and I thought I smelled something baking inside. I tried to walk towards it again, but I was still unable to move from the shadow line.

Looking down in frustration, I was surprised to see my shadow split in half, just as the road was. My shadow was on the left side, the lit side of the road, and a reverse shadow was on the other. Neither shadow stopped where my feet touched the ground. Instead, they connected with the line on the road.

When I looked to my right, trying to figure out what was going on, my eyes were suddenly met with the same house as was on the left side of the road. It was my house again, but everything was dark. It looked as though the people living there were sleeping. Everything was still in order, but it was dark.

I was really confused by this point and looked around for any signs of someone else being here. My village looked set up for people to move in, but there were no signs of anyone having been there. I spun all the way around, trying to find someone, and when I was facing forward again, I jumped back.

My mother was standing right in front of me.

"Isabella," she whispered. She sounded exactly the same as she had so long ago, and I immediately choked up from hearing her voice.

"Mother," I said back, and I reached for her. My heart fell as she took a step back and shook her head, avoiding my outstretched arms. She pointed down in front of her, down at the shadow line, and shook her head again.

"I'm sorry, Isabella, but I can't. I want to . . . I want to hold my baby girl . . . but I can't. As soon as you touch me, you'll never be able to go back," she explained, but she only managed to confuse me more.

"Mother, what are you talking about? Never go back where?"

"Home, dear one. You will never go home." I glanced at our house, standing right behind her on the shaded side of the road, and she shook her head again.

"Isabella, do you remember what happened before you came here?" she asked, and I nodded.

"We were fighting with the Volturi's army. I trapped the leaders and my phoenix set them on fire. They stopped screaming as I passed out, but I don't know much else after that. I know someone moved me around and Hermes healed me with a tear before he died, but that's it."

"You broke, Isabella. That's why you passed out so quickly. That's why you came back every now and then and knew some of what was going on. Your conscious self was floating freely, latching onto whatever stimulus it could find. Your depleted state is why you're here now. The pieces of you have all stopped moving. You're barely alive right now, daughter."

"What happens now?" I asked, and she gave me a small smile.

"Someone has to figure out what happened and put you back together again. You'll know when they have because you'll be able to leave the line on the light side. If you can only move to this side, you'll know they were too late."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Wait and see. Have faith in those who care for you, and pray they can figure out what they have to do before you heart stops. Your soul can only remain shattered for so long. The pieces are what make you who you are. One piece cannot survive without _all_ of the others." She stopped for a minute, letting me think over what she said before starting again.

"You did what you were born to do, Isabella Swan. You saved everyone from the tyranny of the vampires, and you found those you needed to find in order to do so. You fulfilled the prophecy, Isabella. You do not have to go on. You deserve to rest."

I was shaking my head half-way through her speech. Edward's face was front and center in my thoughts as she told me it was okay to give up my life. What she didn't realize was I was finally _able_ to live now. I started building a life for myself as soon as I made sure Carlisle was changed into a vampire, and I was finally going to settle into it when the battle came. I couldn't give up my life because it was only just beginning. My life was in that house on the outskirts of Forks, Washington. I had spent almost six hundred years building it, and I wasn't going to have one battle rip it out of my grasp. These people were my family, and I was not going to lose my family again.

"They'll make it." I said. _I know they will_.


	54. Chapter 53

_Chapter 53: Edward_

Carlisle was in Bella's room checking her vitals again. I hadn't moved from her side since I had put her down almost twelve hours ago, and neither had she. Her condition was exactly the same as it had been from the beginning, but she was almost as dead as I was. If her heart beat any slower or her breathing decreased any more, I'd be _more_ alive. Everyone was trying to send me soothing thoughts, but until Bella was the one trying to calm me, nothing would work.

I knew I had to leave her, had to start collecting the items I'd need to bring her back to me, but just the thought of leaving her side while she was on the verge of death made me hold her hand even tighter. I had to find a witch. I had to somehow find enough Lycan hair to make a stele, and I had no idea what was involved in that. Marianne said she would help me with the rune I had to draw, but that wasn't important if I didn't have everything else. That thought circled back to me having to leave her in order to get the stuff. Again.

"Edward, you're running out of time," Marianne said, coming to sit on the edge of Bella's bed. I didn't acknowledge her, but she didn't seem to mind.

"If you wait too long you'll be holding the hand of a dead woman instead of a dying woman and all hope of having her come back to you will be gone. You need to decide what you're doing, and you need to do it soon. You will lose the choice before long, and you won't be able to take it back."

I closed my eyes tightly in response, trying to keep the image of a dead Bella out of my head. Marianne put her hand on my shoulder in sympathy, but I flinched away.

"Honey, I know you don't want to leave your mate while she's hurt, but she won't get better if you don't. She will _die_, Edward, and you won't get her back. You can only save her by leaving her for a short time. Josh is trying to contact a witch we know, and I'm trying to find the rune, but we need you to get the hair so we can put everything together. You need to be involved in this, Edward, or it won't work."

"I know," I managed to choke out. I was so conflicted, and everything she was saying hit the nail on the head. I didn't want to leave her side while she was in that condition, but I needed to leave in order to save her and make her well again. Choosing one over the other went against my nature as her mate.

"Joshua and I will be here with her, and so will your family. Carlisle will go with you to collect the hairs we need while we stay here and try to find a witch to help us. If you can catch up with the Lycans, you won't be gone for that long. It's been twelve hours, but we've heard rumors that they've only made it to the eastern border of Washington, over by Spokane. You wouldn't be gone long, Edward. I promise you that she'll be safe with us," she pled, her grip tightening on my shoulder, imploring me to see reason. Another hand landed on my other shoulder, and I slowly looked up to see Carlisle looking at me with sadness and understanding.

"Let's go, son," he said softly. "The sooner we leave, the sooner you will be back by her side."

I stared up at him, digesting his and Marianne's words, and I closed my eyes in defeat. I kissed the back of Bella's hand and stood up, not letting go until the very last moment. My body screamed at me as soon as I lost contact with her, and Jasper was right there to coax me away before I could grab her again. I felt like I should've sent him feelings of thanks, but I just couldn't do it. He didn't seem to care as he steered me from the room with his hand on my back, Carlisle following after him. Esme hugged me quickly, kissing my cheek as she went back to Bella's room. Carlisle took Jasper's place, standing at my side with his hand on my opposite shoulder, and gently pushed me forward. A dull, thrumming pain in my chest intensified with every step I took from Bella, and I realized it was the same unsteady tempo as her heart. Knowing that something of her was still with me, I started walking of my own volition.

We started running once we reached the tree line surrounding the house, and the thrumming pain ebbed to just a thrum, a conscious reminder of who was waiting for me when I finished my task. I had to control my speed so I didn't leave Carlisle behind, but he tried his best to keep up. We reached Spokane, Washington, within a matter of hours, and we were able to scent the Lycans a few miles out. They smelled like the La Push wolves, but there was something a little different. It was hard to describe, but it was enough to make it distinguishable.

Following the scent around the town to the other side, we almost ran into the group of five Lycans. I was still shocked by their appearance even after seeing them once before. Their equal mix of wolf and human made them slightly grotesque while they were stuck in that form. They were human in stature, except for the large hump on their backs, elongated limbs, fur-covered bodies, and clawed hands and feet. Their faces extended out into muzzles only slightly, just enough to make human speech difficult. Their eyes were just like those of a human's, which made looking them in the face all the more eerie. They were the epitome of a human soul trapped inside the body of a monster. Bella had briefly explained how Lycans were the werewolves of movie legend, those people who were bitten and forced to change with the moon's cycle, but I hadn't really thought about how they looked until I saw them come out of the trees during the battle.

"Hello," Carlisle said as he stepped towards them, bowing slightly to look less threatening. The largest of the group, a seven-foot-tall male, moved in front of the others and pushed his shoulders back, his lip twitching in a warning.

"We have not come to harm you," Carlisle continued. "We have a request of your people, if you would hear us out."

The Alpha turned slightly and looked at the others standing behind him, grumbling and snuffing in conversation before turning back and nodding his large head. Carlisle and I looked at each other and he gestured for me to take over.

"The woman the vampires were after . . . do you remember her?" I asked, and he nodded. He tried to speak, his mouth opening and moving around as he tried to make the correct sounds, but I waved away his efforts.

"Whatever it is you want to say, think it. I can't understand what you say to each other, but I can read your thoughts." He looked slightly surprised, but the words tumbled out once he got over it.

"We did not want to harm her, vampire. Your rulers threatened to kill us all if we did not join their cause. They have our women and children in their city," he thought, and I nodded.

"We don't blame you for your actions, but we do need your help. When Bella destroyed the vampires, her soul broke. She tried to do too much as she protected us and fought them. She is dying, but there's one thing we can do to help bring her back. We need to bring all of the pieces of her self together, and that's where we need you. All we need is some of your hair. Bella was attacked by a Lycan many years ago, which is why she is now immortal. Something happened between her blood and the bite of your kind to make her that way," I explained, not stopping once in case I couldn't get myself to start again. He was very attentive to what I was saying and didn't have any difficulty understanding me.

"It would be an honor to help the person who freed us from their control," he thought, bowing his head slightly and turning back to his brethren.

Each of them grabbed a clump of their own fur right over their hearts and used their claws to cut it away. The Alpha collected all of the fur and extended his empty hand to me. I took it and he stared at me for a moment.

"Take care of that woman, vampire. She is of a different kind. A good kind. The distance is far, but if she should need us again, we will come."

"We are grateful for your help, and should you need us, please don't hesitate," I said. He kept a hold of my hand a moment longer before nodding and flipping my hand over, gently putting the pile of fur in my palm.

"Please tell her that it is an honor to be a part of her story."

"I will," I said with a nod, and the group made their way into the trees again.

I looked down at the fur in my hands and felt a little pressure lift from my shoulders. Carlisle took a plastic bag from his pocket and secured the fur in it for our run. As we started heading back without a word, I thought, "One down, Bella. You'll be back soon enough. I'll make sure of it."


End file.
